


Draco Malfoy and the Children of Salazar

by HoorEnglish



Series: The Boy Who Lived Two Lives Series [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Boy-Who-Lived Draco Malfoy, Good Malfoy Family (Harry Potter), Hogwarts Second Year, M/M, Slow Burn, Slytherin Head of House Gilderoy Lockhart, Time Travel, Times New Roman Font, Transfiguration Professor Sirius Black, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-13 15:28:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 25,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28780512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HoorEnglish/pseuds/HoorEnglish
Summary: After his harrowing experiences in first year, Draco has finally discovered that he is in a world where he is the Chosen One. Now starting his second year at Hogwarts, muggle-born students are beginning to go missing with the perpetrator being a group called the Children of Salazar.  As the Boy Who Lived, it's his job to investigate this mess but it's quite hard to do when everyone at Hogwarts believes him to be the ringleader of this foul conspiracy.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy & Gregory Goyle & Daphne Greengrass, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Series: The Boy Who Lived Two Lives Series [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1975135
Comments: 29
Kudos: 72





	1. The Boy Who Was Grounded

It’s honestly impressive how fast he went from Draco Malfoy, famed Boy Who Lived that saved Hogwarts from the terror of Peter Pettigrew, to what he was now. That is Draco Malfoy ― the Boy Who Was Grounded by his cousin because he saved Hogwarts. Regulus claimed that it was because he had to teach Draco discipline. “Breaking just about every rule in Hogwarts is completely unacceptable,” Regulus had said. “I have to put my foot down on this. You’ll thank me sooner or later.” 

Draco could safely say he was certainly not thankful for this. 

He was banned from flying, his new broom locked up tightly in Regulus’ room, and he was only supposed to study. It was awful having to send Blaise a letter telling him that he could, unfortunately, not attend his mother’s wedding like he hoped. Though, the letter that he got back from him was only slightly concerning. 

_ 11:15 am. I’ll handle the rest.  _

_ Yours truly, Blaise _

He didn’t know what that meant but he made sure to rip up the note just in case Regulus caught on. 

Though, he doubted that he would be able to find it. Regulus was a lot more absent as of recently. He always told Draco that he was “going out” before leaving him to fend for himself two days at a time. One night, Draco didn’t even feel like cooking and just ate peeled apples covered in cinnamon. How he would ever survive without someone to cook for him most of the time is a mystery he simply cannot solve. But at least he was better off than his past self. Other Draco never even lifted a knife unless it was to cut into a rare steak. 

That was the only good thing about his isolated punishment. He could think about his previous life. He had begun recalling more and more when he thought about it. Sometimes if he did something, he’d remember “Oh, I was good at that” or “I never did that before” which was always interesting. Most of his memories involved getting on Potter’s nerves. Throughout the years, the two of them never became friends which Draco suspected. And he wasn’t trying to become his friend now, either. All Potters were insufferable. 

But good for Potter that he got his parents back. It was just at the cost of Draco’s own. 

Thinking of his parents had started to hurt a bit less nowadays at least. Whenever he felt particularly sad, he would simply look at that photo album that Hagrid gave him and remember them fondly. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen any pictures of his parents together like they are in the photos in his previous life. You never know what you have until it’s gone is how that old saying usually went. He understood that now. 

A loud  _ pop  _ coming from the kitchen snapped Draco out of his reverie. He paused in his petting of Celeste, looking at his closed bedroom door. Celeste ruffled her feathers just a bit, upset that he stopped. “I’ll return, hold on.” Draco promised before he went over to the door. He pressed his ear against it, hearing the sound of plates clinking together. Was Regulus home? The two day intervals that Draco was used to weren't up yet. Even then, Regulus would usually announce his presence. 

Immediately suspicious, Draco went over to the walking stick that he got for Christmas last year and took out his wand. He carefully held the elm wand in his hand. Elm, like his father’s, with a phoenix feather core like his mother’s. After a slow count down from three, Draco opened the door quickly and ran into the kitchen with his wand pointed at the intruder. 

The intruder being a rather decrepit looking house-elf who was currently in the middle of doing his dishes. 

“Who are you?” Draco snarled. “How’d you get in here? Who sent you?” 

The house-elf turned around at the sound of Draco’s voice. He didn’t seem all too bothered at the fact that Draco was pointing his wand at him. He carefully hopped off the stool in front of the sink and hobbled his way over to Draco. The blond took a cautious step back, his wand still raised. The elf looked up at him, inspecting him like a grandparent would their disappointment of a grandson before he bowed. “Kreacher lives to serve the noble house of Black. Kreacher has come bearing a warning for Mistress Narcissa Black’s descendant. The warning is do not return to Hogwarts this year.” The elf said. 

Draco stared at the elf. He met Draco’s gaze head on. He was awfully headstrong for a house-elf. Draco would be impressed if he wasn’t so concerned over the idea of why this elf was telling him to not go back to school. He lowered his wand before he crossed his arms, cocking an eyebrow. “And why not?” Draco asked. “You can’t expect me to follow those orders without an explanation.” 

“Something bad will happen at Hogwarts,” Kreacher warned. “People will be hurt. Plenty of people. Kreacher only be carrying out orders to keep Draco Malfoy safe.” 

Something bad will happen at Hogwarts and people will be hurt? Quite a foreboding message. He already defeated Pettigrew and the smaller version of Belledam. What else could there be at Hogwarts this year? Draco closed his eyes and did his best to remember what happened in his second year during his previous lifetime. There was something about the Chamber of Secrets, muggle-borns being turned to stone and some other things happened that Draco didn’t particularly care about. He was mostly too busy obsessing over Potter and how annoyingly perfect he was. 

Kreacher shuffled closer to Draco, wringing his hands almost impatiently. Draco scoffed. “What is your problem?” 

“Is Master Regulus here?” 

Draco paused at that. He knew about Regulus being alive? “How do you know about Regulus?” He asked. 

“Kreacher said that he serves the noble house of Black. Master Regulus was Kreacher’s master before he faked his death. Master Regulus’s last orders to Kreacher were to not tell anyone that he was alive and to go on as if he were dead,” Kreacher then scowled. “Now Kreacher has to serve that filthy, filthy blood traitor dog of his brother.” 

He already knew that he meant Sirius Black. “Wait, so does that mean that Sirius Black sent you here to warn me?” 

Kreacher shook his head. “No. But Kreacher cannot say where he heard this information for Master Draco’s sake. Now is Master Regulus here?” 

“No, he’s out. Make yourself at home though, I guess. He should be back soon.” Knowing that was all Draco was possibly going to be getting out of him, he picked up his wand and simply watched as the house-elf went back to the sink to continue doing the dishes, grumbling something under his breath. Deciding that Kreacher didn’t pose any kind of threat (except to Draco’s patience), he walked back into his room and did his best to quell his boredom by studying his old textbooks. 

Draco was proud of his progress in beating his lisp that Daphne said he had. It was a bit embarrassing to find out that he even had one in the first place but he was determined to beat it. A letter sent by Daphne mentioned that he would probably outgrow it didn’t already. And if it continued to persist, she started practicing some spells that could help him get rid of it. It would be easier to just have Daphne handle it but Draco was a Slytherin. Determination and ambition were in his blood. 

And he would be damned if he lost to a lisp of all things. 

Kreacher suddenly popped into his bedroom, nearly startling Draco. “Kreacher has cooked Master Draco lunch. Master Draco is way too thin and needs to conserve his energy.” He placed the dish on Draco’s desk before leaving with a resounding  _ pop _ . Draco inspected the dish, surprised to see a mouth-watering shepherd’s pie. He doesn’t even think Regulus cooked something like this for him. As Draco bit into the warm dish, he decided that Kreacher wasn’t so bad after all. 

As long as he continued to cook for Draco, of course. 

* * *

Regulus returned home after his longest gap yet. Draco had planned to ignore him because he was still mad at him but, this time, Regulus came bearing a slice of cake so he couldn’t stay mad at him for so long. 

“You know, just because you give me this doesn’t mean I forgive you,” Draco said once he was finished with a good portion of it. Just enough where he was satisfied and there was too much of it gone for Regulus to threaten to take it back. “I am owed this at the bare minimum.” 

“Circe, you sound like Lucius more and more every day.” Regulus collapsed into the chair opposite to Draco in the dining room. He looked exhausted, with bags under his eyes and looking paler than usual. He rubbed at his face, obviously struggling to stay awake. “It’s probably the walking stick, isn’t it?” 

Draco smiled just a bit. Being compared to his father certainly boosted his mood. Just for a second, though. Draco immediately cools his expression. He can’t be soft with Regulus here. He’d already forgiven him for hiding the fact that he was the Chosen One from him. If he forgave him for everything, Regulus would end up thinking it was alright to punish Draco for doing the world a favor. He had to stay stubborn. 

But that’s the thing about the both of them. Members of the Black family could be ridiculously stubborn when they wanted to be. 

“Where have you been running off to, Regulus?” He’s a soon-to-be second year student and he  _ was  _ a seventh year student once. He decided to drop the affectionate “Cousin Regulus” nickname during the summer. Mostly because he was mad but he was getting older. And, if his memories served him correctly, there was an upcoming war. He had no time to play childish games with Regulus anymore. “This is the longest you’ve been gone. I’ve been having to have your old house-elf cook me proper meals.” 

That seemed to snap Regulus from his tired haze. “Kreacher?” 

And as if on cue, the old house-elf popped into the kitchen. “Master Draco, Kreacher is―” The old elf paused when he seemed to finally recognize Regulus. The two of them just stared at each other for a bit, the silence so loud that you could hear a pin drop. Kreacher then hobbled over and bowed to his old master. “Master Regulus. Kreacher is pleased to see you again. Kreacher has kept your secret.” 

Regulus smiled and turned in his hair, looking down at his old friend Kreacher. He placed a hand on top of his head and spoke softly. “Kreacher, my old friend. You’re as loyal as always.” 

Though it seemed impossible, Kreacher bowed even lower. “Kreacher may  _ live to _ serve the most noble House of Black, but Kreacher is most loyal to Master Regulus. Always.” He said, a slow smile appearing on his face. 

Draco carefully watched the two of them interact, intrigued. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen such a positive relationship between a pureblood and a house-elf. He remembered the days when his father bossed Dobby around. He even remembered when Draco, himself, used to pull on poor Dobby’s ears when he was younger because he found them so fascinating. They almost seemed like old friends. 

“Erm, Kreacher, you’re serving Sirius now, correct? How is he doing?” Regulus asked. 

Any affection that showed on Kreacher’s face fell off immediately, replaced with disgust. “Master Sirus is awful. Absolutely dreadful,” He said, crossing his arms. “He is barely at Grimmauld Place. And when he is, he leaves plenty of messes.” 

Regulus’s shoulders drop slightly. “Ah, expected as much…” 

Draco decided then that he should break into the conversation. He had been interrupted for long enough. “Grimmauld Place?” 

“The old Black house,” Regulus explained. “I suppose Sirius wouldn’t want to be there. His memories of that place were never really positive. Especially after he became a Gryffindor…” 

Draco never went there but he remembered his mother mention it once. She called it something along the lines of dusty and dreadful. No wonder Black wasn’t a fan of it. “Kreacher,” Draco said, getting the attention of the elf. “Make us some tea, would you? I hate to interrupt your tear jerking reunion but I still need to talk with Regulus.” Regulus seemed surprised at how naturally Draco was ordering Kreacher around. The elf bowed before he immediately got to work. 

Draco sat up straighter in his seat, Regulus turning in his own seat to face Draco again. The blond looked at his cousin as carefully. “I apologize for ruining your little catch up session with your previous elf but you did not answer my question. Where have you been going since Christmas?” 

“Bloody hell, Draco,” Regulus rubbed his temples. “Must I tell you? I know how you get when these kinds of things.” 

“Listen here, Regulus Black,” Draco leaned forward in his seat a bit. “I have had to witness plenty of terrible things during my time at Hogwarts. I almost got eaten by a werewolf, got spotted by a disturbing creature in the Forbidden Forest, almost wasted away in front of a magical mirror, went through vicious trials where I almost died, got betrayed by my very own teacher who was working with You-Know-Who and then I―” Draco’s words got caught in his throat. Right. He couldn’t speak about his time travel thing. So, he just clears his throat instead. “You get the idea. I’ve seen a lot of things recently. I’m not to be treated like a child anymore.” 

Regulus stared at him a bit before he sighed. “Alright,” Regulus caved. “The truth of the matter is that the Order of the Phoenix has recently come together due to suspected Death Eater activity. I am assisting them. I’ve recently agreed to do more dangerous missions especially due to the fact that two Death Eaters had managed to slip into Hogwarts with such ease,” His cousin then scoffed. “Honestly, involving children in the affairs of adults. Death Eaters are becoming more and more reprehensible.” 

“I couldn’t agree more.” Draco agreed. Kreacher eventually came over, magically lifting the tray of tea onto the table. Draco poured his own cup and took a sip. As delicious as always. “But I am also the Chosen One. And it is my job to do what I can to help when I need to. You don’t need to coddle me so much by hiding these kinds of things.” 

“If this is your way of telling me you don’t deserve to be grounded then I am simply going to disagree.” 

“You know this is bullshit―” 

_ “ Draco Lucius Malfoy, you will watch your tongue. ”  _

“I saved Hogwarts for Merlin’s sake! I fought off a werewolf. A  _ Death Eater _ werewolf! What part of that are you not understanding? I should be given praise instead of being grounded.” Draco argued. 

“Absolutely not,” scowled Regulus. “This isn’t about saving Hogwarts, I told you that. You broke many of the school rules there. Bloody hell, you were even thrown in a bit of a coma after your little heroic stunt! I almost had a heart attack when McGonagall had told me what happened. How about next time you suspect something is off, go to a professor instead of doing it yourself.” 

“Oh yeah, a professor,” Draco said dryly. “I’ll just march up to the next Death Eater in Hogwarts and tell them they need to do better at hiding their plans. Honestly, if you think that mousy idiot was the last teacher at Hogwarts to be a Death Eater then you and your little Order friends are bigger idiots than I thought.” 

“We’re not omnipotent, I don’t know what you would have me do here. I am doing all of this for your sake, you know. If we were doing things the way I wanted, we’d have been in the Americas right about now the moment the Death Eaters started showing signs of stirring. You should be showing me a little gratitude for putting my life on the line just so you can go to Hogwarts.” 

“Well, I’m not. So, there’s obviously a problem here and it isn’t me.” 

The two of them sat in silence after that, boiling anger stirring in each of their guts. There is so much he wanted to yell at Regulus about but he knew it would be out of line. And a part of him understood that Regulus was working hard for him. But all of this wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair and, surely, Regulus recognized that as well. But instead, Regulus stood up and in his chair and pointed towards Draco’s room. 

“Go to your room,” Regulus ordered. “Kreacher will bring you your dinner because I cannot stand to look at you right now. I don’t know what’s gotten into you but I miss the respectful child that I used to have.” 

“Oh yeah?” Draco placed his teacup on the table with more force than was necessary. “Well,  _ I _ miss my actual parents that I  _ used to have _ . But we all can’t have what we want,  _ cousin _ .” And with that, Draco stomped away to his room and made sure to slam the door behind him. 

That was the first time the two of them fought like that. It was so nasty that it left Draco feeling a bit disoriented even after Kreacher brought him dinner. 

A couple of days passed and neither of them apologized to each other. They avoided each other and didn’t dare speak, going about their days like the other wasn’t there. It wasn’t until Regulus was about to leave did the two of them share words since their argument. 

Draco was in his room when Regulus lightly knocked on the door, peeking his head inside. 

“I’m going out again. Kreacher is around if you want food,” He said. 

“Mm.” Draco didn’t dare turn around. 

“...Draco,” Regulus began gently, but he never did finish that sentence. Silence stretched between them before Regulus sighed and closed the door again. Draco rolled his eyes and pet Celeste who nuzzled her head against his finger to comfort him. Celeste was a very smart owl. She always knew just what to do to make Draco feel better.

He waited a couple more seconds before he decided that it was safe to leave the room. He opened the door and looked around, making sure that Regulus wasn’t around before he slipped out. Draco sent a quick wave to Kreacher who was hard at work in the kitchen before he went outside. It was an oddly beautiful day. One that would surely be nice for Ms. Zabini’s wedding. He’s sure that everyone else is enjoying their time there. Daphne no doubt looked beautiful in whatever dress she decided to pick out. 

And then here he was, planning on going to visit the chickens to feed them.  _ What an exciting summer vacation, _ Draco thought bitterly to himself, his thoughts filled with sarcasm.  _ It couldn’t possibly get better than this. _

The sound of a horn snapped Draco out of his reverie. 

He looked up at the sky and from the heavens descended an impressive beast that Draco knew muggles liked to call a  _ car _ . It was blue in color and compact, nothing like the more impressive cars that fancier muggles owned. He walked closer for a better look at it as it landed a few feet away from him. The familiar face of Blaise Zabini appeared out of the back window of the car, waving excitedly. Draco ran towards him, a smile spreading on his face because he was so relieved to see a friend again. Sending letters had seriously gotten old. 

“We’re here to pick you up, Draco. I did say a quarter past eleven, didn’t I?” Blaise grinned. 

“ _ We _ ?” 

Draco looked to the front seats where the Weasley twins were, smirking at him. Leave it to Blaise to befriend the Weasley twins. Maybe asking him to handle things back in first year really was a bad idea. He was beginning to regret it more and more. 

“Don’t mind us. We’re simply your humble navigators to the beautiful union between Thema Venus Zabini and Bradley Hazel Nettle.” Fred said, forcing a posh noble voice. 

“Your mother actually allowed you to invite Weasleys to her wedding?” Draco asked skeptically. 

“Oh, of course not,” George said from the passenger seat. “We’re just sneaking in.  _ You  _ are invited though. Legitimately.” 

Draco shook his head. There was no way that the Weasley twins would last ten minutes in a pureblood woman’s wedding without getting kicked out. He leaned against the car a bit. “I’m honored that you wanted to pick me up but I’m grounded, remember? And, besides, I need to get a proper outfit and all that other stuff I’m not prepared for.” Draco explained. 

“Didn’t you say that your caretaker was more absent nowadays?” Blaise asked. “Is he here now?” 

“Well, technically no.” 

“Then who’s gonna know?” 

That was a good point. Regulus wouldn’t know he was gone since the man did disappear for days on end. Besides, he was angry at him currently so why should he follow his rules. Draco smirked. 

“I like the way you think,” praised Draco. “But I still need an outfit that I don’t have.” 

“I told you I would handle the rest. Just hop in.” Blaise opened the door to the car and Draco couldn’t really resist then, could he? Just as Draco slid into the blue muggle contraption, Kreacher appeared by the door looking a bit disgruntled at something so muggle carrying the most sacred child of House Black inside of it. 

Draco stuck his head out of the window. “Kreacher, I’m going out. If  _ he  _ comes back, tell him I’m at Zabini Manor.” 

“But Kreacher was under the understanding that Master Draco was not allowed to leave.” 

“He promised me that I was allowed to go to this one event in particular, Kreacher.” Draco lied. “Now could you be a dear and make sure the chickens are fed? Walpurga in particular gets really crabby when she is not fed on time.” 

Blaise snorted from beside him. 

“Of course,” Kreacher bowed. “Have a safe trip, Master Draco.” 

“Thank you.” Draco let Blaise reach across him to help him roll up the window. It turned out a spinning lever was the thing that caused the windows to roll up. Muggle cars were so interesting. George started up the car, the vehicle slowly rising high into the air before it began flying away. Draco looked out of the window as his small house got smaller and smaller. It was like his first time riding a broom all over again. Though, this time the risk of falling was decreased thanks to the doors. 

“You should really get a new house-elf, Draco. He looks a bit old.” Blaise commented. 

“He’s not mine,” Draco leaned back a bit further into his seat. It was kind of comfortable. “He actually belongs to House Black. He only started coming over because he told me to stay away from Hogwarts. Apparently, something bad is going to happen there.” 

“Of course,” Blaise shook his head with a fond smile. “As I said on the train, there will never be a dull year at Hogwarts with the Silver Trio around. Spare me the details for now. Daphne, Greg, and Theo are already at the wedding so we should talk there.” 

“Hm, that’s fair. What’s the plan for when we get there?” 

“We’ll all go to my room to change.  _ And don’t think about being a prude, Draco _ . We’ll make it just in time for me to walk down the aisle with the rings.” 

That seemed reasonable enough. Draco tapped his foot against the seat, thinking about the fact that he really did just disobey Regulus’s orders for him to stay home. It felt a bit odd to be doing but also slightly thrilling. Blaise lightly patted him on the arm before he leaned forward towards the front of the car, turning on the radio. A familiar Celestina Warbeck song played through the speakers. 

“Ohh, I love this song,” Blaise beamed before singing. _“_ _ Oh, my poor heart, where has it gone? ”  _

_ “ It’s left me for a spell… _ _”_ Fred sang along. 

_ “ But I don’t mind, ‘cause with you I find… _ _”_ sung George, joining in as well. 

Blaise leaned heavily against George, nuzzling his head against his shoulder like a cat. _“_ _ I’m always feeling well! ”  _

Draco shook his head, already feeling a headache coming on. He never was that big of a fan of Celestina Warbeck and the Banshees. “This is going to be a long car ride,” Draco mumbled under his breath, doing his best to tune out the horrid singing as he played with the silver snakehead of his walking stick. 

* * *

Zabini Manor was absolutely gorgeous. It was located in one of the rural parts of Gloucestershire with beautiful expansive green surrounding it on all sides. The manor itself was large in size but not large enough to be like a castle. While it was made of stone, the colorful gardens that decorated the interior of the area made it seem a lot more inviting. As they got closer towards the ground, Draco could even see where the wedding was taking place. 

They landed a little ways away from the manor so they would have to walk the rest of the way. 

“Funnily enough, we’re going to have to take the front to sneak in since everyone is in the back,” Blaise said, leading them to the front gates of his family’s home. The gates automatically opened for the group of them, allowing them access to the gravel pathway that led them to the front door. A house-elf opened the door for them and bowed. 

“Welcome home, Master Blaise.” She had said. 

“Thank you, Nisley. I’ll be taking these boys up to my room. Please bring the dress robes that I asked of you and make sure to retrieve the Weasley’s luggage from their muggle car.” Draco was shocked at how politely Blaise spoke. He was usually a lot more relaxed when at Hogwarts. Here, he kept his back straight and his head held high like the lord of the manor he was expected to be. When Nisley disappeared, Blaise looked back at the shocked look the group was sending him before he began leading them to his room. 

It was a quick walk up a flight of stairs and a turn to the left hall but Draco was still very impressed by Blaise’s manor. From what he had seen, there were beautiful marble busts of Blaise’s ancestors along with potted plants that would surely make Professor Sprout blush from their beauty alone. As he walked past, Draco stuck his hand out to one of them and watched in amazement as the leaves came to life. They gently brushed against his hand like an affectionate cat. 

“Seems like the Felisficus plants like you,” Blaise commented. “Draco Malfoy, Chosen One and Herbologist. Is there anything you can’t do?” 

Draco scoffed. “Save the school without getting grounded, apparently.” 

“I still can’t believe you got grounded for that,” George mused. “Your folks must be pretty strict.” 

That was one way to put it.  _ A strict and insufferable arsehole more like it,  _ Draco thought to himself. 

“Kind of reminds you of mum, huh, George?” Fred grinned mischievously. “We know how you feel, Malfoy. We get unjustly grounded all of the time.” 

“Really now?” 

“Yeah. You attempt to make  _ one  _ Unbreakable Vow with your little brother and suddenly you’re the bad guy.” 

They make it to Blaise’s room which seems a lot larger than Blaise himself. It reminded him of his own room that he once had back in Malfoy Manor. There was a slight pang in his chest at the thought of his old home. Either the Ministry has taken hold over it or Death Eaters. Both parties were equally unwelcoming, at least to him. But the fate of his old home was unknown to him. He would have ask Regulus if the two of them weren’t arguing right now. 

He’d have to ask Daphne instead then. He already began mentally preparing for a lecture in his head. 

Nisley popped into the room, carrying two suitcases and folded up dress robes in her arms. She wobbled over to the bed and placed everything there before disappearing with a loud pop. Blaise picked up the dress robes that rested on top of the suitcase, unfolding them for Draco to get a good look at them. They were simply black and nothing special which was to be expected at a pureblood wedding. Absolutely no one was allowed to outshine the bride and the groom. It was absolutely abysmal manners. 

“That’ll work.” Draco shrugged. 

“It better work. This is all you’ve got,” Blaise pressed the robes into Draco’s chest, chuckling at the winded look the blond gave him afterward. “Are you gonna slick your hair back too? What do you usually use?” 

Draco reached up and touched the fringes of his hair. That’s right. He never did get to slick it back when he went out. Then again, he wasn’t expecting to ride off into the sunset with two Weasleys, a Zabini, and a muggle car as their steed. “Wizarding Sculpting Gel.” He answered casually. But from the way Blaise gaped at him, that was the wrong answer. 

“You do realize that stuff leads to baldness, right?” Blaise glances back at the twins for a second before he grabs Draco by the arm and begins pulling him into one of the doors in his room. It’s a bathroom. A very nice one with faucets made of gold and counters made of sparkling marble. Blaise closes the door behind him before leaning in close to Draco, whispering in his face. “Just about every pureblood knows this. It’s why they leave that stuff for half-bloods and muggle-borns.” 

“That was all that I had in my house. Excuse me for living in a secluded cabin all by myself.” 

Blaise rolled his eyes at Draco’s sarcasm. “Well, we’re going to have to style your hair so just trust me with this.” 

Draco watched as Blaise dug around under his sink before he pulled out a glass bottle labeled Occamy Egg Yolk Shampoo. “This is expensive stuff. Got this from Gilderoy Lockhart himself for my birthday. And now I’m giving this to you for your birthday.” 

“My birthday has already passed though.” 

“I know. It’s a shame I had to find out about it _ in The Daily Prophet of all things. _ We could have at least had a bit of a party before exams started.” Blaise grabbed Draco by the arm, dragging him closer to the sink. “So don’t ask for anything else for your birthday. Now, head in the sink. We’re cleansing your scalp. No more gel for you, Draco Malfoy.” 

Draco sighed but decided it would be best to not fight Blaise on this. He leaned over the sink and let the warm water soak his blond locks of hair. The shampoo actually did feel quite good in his hair along, followed by Blaise’s gentle hands as he worked his scalp. He would never dare admit how he actually found himself dozing off just a bit from the oddly relaxing motions. He doesn’t think he ever knew Blaise was some kind of expert hair washer in his previous timeline. Whether this was just something that he developed now due to the diverging timelines or something that he was always able to do, Draco would never really know. 

But it made him want to learn more about his friends. Learn things that he never knew about them before because he was never close to them. Even about Parkinson and Crabbe. They were awful but they used to be friends once before. But trying to learn about them would be like trying to train a Hippogriff hopped up on Amortentia. And Draco wasn’t very sure he had the endurance and patience to try and deal with them. 

Once Blaise was done, Draco lifted his head out of the sink and pushed his wet hair out of his face. Blaise placed a fluffy white towel on his head before he ran it repeatedly over his head, his hair quickly drying up leaving it styled oddly perfectly. Draco looked carefully in the mirror, running his hands over the fringe that covered some of his forehead. He smiled a bit at the length of his hair, having grown longer than it was in first year. 

“Self Styling Towels always do the trick,” Blaise said proudly. “You’re welcome. See you in a bit.” 

They all got dressed in their own dress robes, coming together after a few minutes. Blaise had spelled the Weasley twins' robes black since the ones they brought were offensively orange. Blaise led the way to the gardens where everyone was sitting in their own seats, whispering to whoever was beside them. Some were about how beautiful the decorations were, others were jokes about how long this husband would last with Ms. Zabini before he mysteriously died this time. Draco saw Daphne who was sitting beside Greg, holding on tightly to his hand as she sat stiffly. 

A little girl sat on the other side of Daphne who leaned on Ms. Greengrass’s arm. Ms. Greengrass looked at everything while she fanned herself, looking as if she sucked on a lemon earlier in the day. It seemed as if she didn’t approve of everything she was seeing at the moment. 

“Alright, I’m off. Don’t miss me too much.” Blaise whispered before he disappeared off somewhere, most likely getting into position to walk down the aisle as the ring bearer. Draco took his seat with the Weasley twins, being the unfortunate soul to end up in between them instead of on one side of them. 

“Shouldn’t the both of you be under some kind of glamour or something? They just might kick you out,” commented Draco. The twins looked at each other before shrugging. 

“Well, we’re already here,” Fred said. “It would be in bad taste to kick out two children, would it not?” 

“I agree.” George nodded. “In terribly bad taste. We’ve even dressed appropriately. It wouldn’t be fair. Unless you want us gone, Draco?” 

Who even gave them permission to call him by his first name? Blaise, no doubt, but it still irked him just a bit. But he knew better than to tell the twins to stop. They’d just keep doing it to annoy him. 

“You two are hardly children. You’re fourth years now. You’ll be full grown adults sooner or later. Emphasis on the sooner.” 

Fred nodded sagely. “I suppose that’s true. But Ms. Zabini is such a radiant woman. She wouldn’t dare kick us out.” 

“You’ve met her before?” Draco asked, an eyebrow raised. Even Draco hadn’t met Blaise’s mom yet. How did these two chucklefucks manage to do it before he did? 

“Well, we’ve only met her over a letter,” George explained. “She said that we were interesting company for Blaise to have.” 

Draco had a feeling that their definition of interesting company was different from a pureblood woman’s definition of interesting. No, it wasn’t even a feeling. It was a fact. But as long as they didn’t cause trouble at one of the most important days of Ms. Zabini’s life, they should still be allowed to visit Blaise. His dear Slytherin friend seemed to enjoy their company so he wasn’t going to hope for the worst. 

Things began to quiet down, signaling the beginning of the ceremony. 

Two little girls twirled down the aisle, throwing flower petals onto the ground and some onto the people in the crowd which earned fond smiles from some of the more elderly members for their cuteness. And then came Ms. Zabini, who did look absolutely radiant. The dress she wore was pure white and hugged her voluptuous figure. A long shawl decorated in small diamonds hid her bare shoulders, trailing behind her like a train. A tiara was stuck in her fluffy black hair with a veil sticking out of it like she was a princess. 

She walked down the aisle, smiling at her newest husband with a beautiful smile. The two of them met at the end and whispered loving words to each other as the priest smiled fondly at the two of them. They exchanged vows which acted as Blaise’s cue to walk down the aisle with the rings. Fred and George silently cheered on their friend, Blaise smiling in their direction for just a second before he focused ahead. 

The two exchanged rings, kissed, and then hugged. The audience cheered and, with that, their union was complete. Which left room for the post-wedding reception. 

* * *

The wedding reception was in full swing, filled with smiles and laughter. Everyone was participating in a little dance called the Celestina Waltz to the song that blasted over the wireless. Couples simply twirled each other around to the beat of the music. Interestingly enough, Daphne and Greg were having some fun together. Draco smiled a bit into his cup of butterbeer when he noticed Daphne’s slight flushed cheeks when Greg lifted her up to spin her around. Those two were going to be an interesting couple whenever they got together. 

Gilderoy Lockhart was in attendance as well which isn’t all that surprising. The man was busy charming a group of people, flashing them smiles as he talked about his exploits all over the wizarding world. How that man managed to spout so many lies in only a few minutes was nothing short of talent. 

“Um, hello…” 

The soft greetings of a girl caught Draco’s attention. He looked to his side and was met with the sight of Daphne’s little sister, Astoria. It was funny seeing her so small nowadays. The last time he saw her, she was older and exhausted from the war that was going on. Now she seemed a bit more well rested. And shier, from the way she ducked her head when he smiled at her. 

“You must be Astoria,” Draco held out his hand for her to take, bowing and pressing a light kiss to her knuckles. Astoria’s cheeks turned bright red before she returned his bow with a polite curtsy. “Did you want to dance?” That question didn’t seem to please her much. She let out a small squeak before scurrying away to her mother, hiding behind her while the woman talked to the other guests. 

Draco raised an eyebrow but didn’t question it, instead going back to drinking his butterbeer. Astoria was still a young lady at this point in time. Perhaps she wasn’t used to talking to boys yet. But, if Draco remembered correctly, she should be starting once Draco entered his third year. What had happened during third year? Something about a prisoner escaping, Dementors, and that damn bird that Draco forgot the name of. 

He really wasn’t looking forward to the Dementors again. 

“Galleon for your thoughts, Draco?” 

Draco turned just in time to catch the object that was thrown at him. Looking down at the object, he saw that it was a time-turner. The chipped time-turner that he gave to Theo last year yet it was looking a lot newer. Speaking of Theo, stood next to him in his fancy dress robes. His hair was slicked back and he had a confident smirk on his face, a look that was certainly newer than the bored indifference that he usually had. 

“You’ve fixed it,” Draco commented. 

“Almost. I just gave it a new coat of paint.” Theo poured himself a cup of butterbeer. “And it’s somewhat usable.” 

“Really?” 

“Yes. It can go back in time for exactly one minute now.” 

Well, that wasn’t exactly all that impressive. His thoughts must have shown on his expression because Theo quickly snatched it back from him, giving him a harsh glare. “I’m still working on it,” Theo said defensively, shoved it back into his pocket. “If I have more time then I’m sure I can have it go even further than that.” 

Well, that answers what exactly Theodore Nott was up to over the summer. And having a time-turner on their side would surely work for them this year. One minute is still valuable time. 

The song ended, relieving Draco of hearing such a grating song on his ears. Now he could finally round up his friends and tell them about what he learned from Kreacher. “Can you get Blaise for me? I need to tell everyone something urgent,” Draco explained. The two of them separated, Theo going to Blaise and Draco going to Daphne and Greg. He gave the two of them a smug smirk as the two finally noticed him, quickly letting go of each other and straightening out their dress robes. 

“You came after all!” Greg smiled, clapping Draco on the back. “Your caretaker is going to kill you for this, you know.” 

Draco shrugged. “Yes, I know. But we can deal with that later. Follow me.” 

He didn’t explain anymore to them as he began walking away, the two sharing a look with each other before they followed him without question. It was a good feeling to know that his friends trusted him enough to not question where he was taking them. Trust was definitely going to be important for their upcoming years at Hogwarts. The future was already set in stone yet it was unpredictable as well. 

Sirius Black was a teacher who hated him, McGonagall was the Headmistress, and his parents were dead. What else changed? What would happen this year? 

The group of Slytherins met up a few feet away from the party, making sure to stand in the direction of the wireless so that anyone who may be eavesdropping would have a hard time hearing over Celestina Warbeck. Daphne is the first to speak up. 

“Before we begin, I have a bone to pick with one boy named Draco Malfoy.” She jabbed her finger into his chest. “When were you going to tell us that your birthday was during exams? We would have actually celebrated it. Instead, I had to find out from the  _ Daily bloody Prophet _ !” 

Funnily enough, Blaise said the same thing earlier. Truthfully, Draco actually managed to forget all about it due to all the stress with the plan to break into the corridor along with the exams themselves. It’s honestly surprising even to him. For once, something related to him managed to pale in comparison to the larger things at hand. Maybe selflessness came along with the title of the Boy Who Lived. Which, honestly, sounded downright awful. 

“Trust me, it won’t happen again.” 

Daphne rolled her eyes but fell quiet, giving Draco the chance to tell them why he even called this little meeting in the first place. 

“Just recently, a house-elf named Kreacher came to warn me that something bad is going to happen at Hogwarts this year. And I have a bit of an idea of what  _ may  _ happen but I don’t know for sure. I just want you all to keep an eye out for any suspicious activity once we go back.” Draco explained. He then paused, looking back towards them. “By the way, does The Chamber of Secrets mean anything to any of you?” 

“Sounds like a dirty joke,” Greg joked. Daphne slapped him on the arm. 

Seeing as no one was nodding, Draco had his answer. “Nevermind then,” The blond shook his head. “That’s all I had to say on the matter. Any questions?” 

“Are we planning on going to the teachers about this?” Daphne questioned. 

“Probably not.” 

“Do we have to kill something or someone?” Theo inquired, an eyebrow raised.

“Most likely.” 

“Is this going to interfere with Quidditch?” Greg wondered. 

“Depends on what happens.” 

“Is Potter going to be involved?” Blaise asked with a wink. 

Draco gave him a harsh glare. “Definitely not. I won’t allow it.” 

He was getting real sick and tired of Blaise’s ideas that him and Potter were some kind of item. They definitely were not nor would they ever be. He felt that way before he regained his memories and he definitely feels that way about him now. Though, Potter is a powerful wizard. Or at least he will become one in the future. Any man who can weaponize the Expelli-bloody-armus could definitely be considered above average in the magic department.

A part of him was tempted to best Potter at his own game with that spell, learning it before he can. But, knowing his luck, James Potter probably taught him that and more over the summer. 

Blaise opened his mouth to speak, a teasing sentence on the tip of his tongue which would certainly end in it being hexed when a loud ringing from the wireless caught their attention. The party quickly hushed up, some people drifting closer to the wireless. The group shared a look with each other before making their way back to the party as well, listening close to the wireless as well. 

The ringing ended and the voice of a young woman spoke up. 

“This is a message from Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement Albus Dumbledore,” The woman spoke. Albus Dumbledore was the Head of the DMLE? That was news to Draco. The blond stood up a little straighter. “There has been an attack in Diagon Alley by known Death Eaters in the area. For the safety of the people, we are asking that everyone does not leave their homes for the time being until given the all clear. I repeat…” 

“They can’t do that!” One of the party go-ers spoke up. “Who does Albus Dumbledore bloody well think he is to be ordering us to stay like this!” 

Murmurs echoed throughout the party, some nodding their head in agreement while others disagreed. Lady Zabini stood up from her chair beside her husband, tapping her champagne glass to get everyone’s attention. Heads turned to her as she spoke with clarity and refinement. “How about we move this party inside?” She offered. “I have a working Floo and I can have the house-elves make us drinks while we wait.” 

And with that, everyone began filing into the manor. It was kind of a depressing sight to see all of the abandoned party equipment left behind. The white streamers that were wrapped around some of the bushes blew sadly in the wind. Draco caught up with his group of friends. “Ms. Zabini is probably pissed at all of this.” 

“Maybe. But I am sure she is jumping at the chance to throw another party as well,” Theo commented. “She’s a pureblooded socialite. They love doing these kinds of things.” 

“But her wedding was so nice. She’ll have to get a new theme and everything,” Daphne placed a hand on Blaise’s arm. “If your mother needs any help, tell me. I will gladly help her.” 

Inside Zabini Manor was organized chaos. Everyone was speaking at once, most of the people huddled by the Floo just waiting for their turns to return home. Some people, perhaps too drunk to use the floor, sat in the parlor room, and chatted there. One of those people was Daphne’s mother who sat with Astoria by her side as she talked to another man that Draco recognized as Rabastan Lestrange. What was he doing at a wedding instead of Azkaban? Did he not end up becoming a Death Eater or did he weasel his way out of it? The two of them shook hands before she gave him something which Draco couldn’t identify. It was odd but he didn’t comment on it. 

Draco’s little cottage wasn’t registered on the Floo Network for the Zabini Manor considering he snuck over here in the first place. His heart dropped at the thought of Regulus finding out that he wasn’t home which he was most likely doing right about now. But he pushed down the slight guilt he felt at the thought of his dearest cousin looking around the cottage in a panic. The twins were concerned but for a different reason. Mostly about the muggle car that they took to drive here without permission. 

Molly Weasley was probably having a fit right about now. 

It was eventually decided that an impromptu sleepover was needed since just about the whole group was stuck here, the only ones allowed to leave technically being Theo and Greg. Luckily, they decided to stay anyway. Greg’s reason was that he was supposed to protect Draco anyways while Theo didn’t give much a reason. “It’s only because Blaise’s house is interesting is all,” Theo said simply. 

He then punched Blaise in the arm when the other teasingly suggested that Theo actually cared about their well being. 

Night eventually came. While the adults were downstairs in the parlor sitting by the wireless, all of the kids were upstairs huddled in Blaise’s room. The only kids at the party were himself, Blaise, the twins, the Greengrass sisters, Theo and Greg which was a relief. He trusted just about everyone in the room currently. He was still iffy on the twins but they claimed he were his allies so he’d have to take their word for it. They certainly were the loyal sort. 

Draco rubs his jaw at the memory of one of the twins punching him there when he commented on Molly Weasley’s weight during their time at Hogwarts. He could depend on them for now. 

All of them were huddled in a circle playing a board game simply called  _ Aurors _ . Draco cleared his throat, all eyes turning to him. “I have a confession to make,” Draco met the eyes of everyone in the room. “What I say in this room must absolutely not leave it no matter what.” 

“Aw, when is the Potter-Malfoy wedding?” Blaise asked. Astoria turned towards Blaise, alarmed as her face quickly paled. Greg elbowed Blaise with a small grunt, his expression serious as he turned back to Draco. He gave him a nod and that filled Draco with a bit more confidence than he needed. It was time that he told him at least the one secret that he was allowed to speak on. He leaned forward conspiratorially, some of the others in the group doing the same. 

“What would you all think if I told you that my caretaker was actually  _ the  _ Regulus Black?”

There was silence before the room before Daphne spoke up first, her eyes nearly popping out of her sockets. 

_ “What!?” _


	2. The Journal

Draco Malfoy would never admit it to their face but the Weasley twins actually weren’t half bad. But if he had to choose a favorite, he would say that George was the better half of the two. 

George was a lot more subdued than his brother. Despite being so similar in appearance, their personalities had enough differences that Draco was able to tell the difference between the two of them. Draco also liked George more because he made the most obvious googly eyes at Blaise Zabini that he’s ever seen. Being stuck inside the Zabini Manor for such an extended period of time allowed him time to see them in their natural habitat. 

Every time Blaise spoke up, the two of them would look at him. But while Fred looked  _ at  _ him, George looked  _ into  _ him. He kept his attention on Blaise longer than Fred would, his gazes lingering on Blaise before he would look in whatever direction his brother did. It’s funny to Draco that, despite Blaise claiming that he was the most eligible bachelor among their friend group, he was oblivious to George’s infatuation with him. 

Or maybe he was aware of it and liked the attention. It was really hard to tell with Blaise sometimes. 

The lockdown lasted longer than Draco would have thought, only officially being over a day before they were set to go to Hogwarts. That meant school shopping in Diagon Alley would be absolute hell for people who didn’t order their stuff through the Owl Express. Daphne, Greg, and Theo visited them from time to time to check up on them during the lockdown, but their Floo usage was limited due to yet another order from Albus Dumbledore to the general populace. The morning of the lockdown being officially lifted, Draco finally received word from Regulus. 

Blaise’s house-elf popped into the guest room he was residing in during his stay, placing the howler right on his bed before disappearing. On the front of the howler, written in Regulus’s angry handwriting, was the simple order to OPEN ALONE. Draco took a deep breath before he opened it, knowing that it would open itself if he let it sit for too long. 

_ “DRACO LUCIUS MALFOY, I AM DISAPPOINTED IN YOU. AFTER MY STRICT ORDERS TO NOT LEAVE THE HOUSE, YOU DO SO ANYWAYS AND EVEN DRAGGED POOR KREACHER INTO YOUR MESS. HE SLAMMED HIS HEAD AGAINST THE OVEN FOR AN HOUR BEFORE HE ALLOWED HIMSELF TO STOP, YOU KNOW. MS. ZABINI’S HUSBAND WILL TAKE YOU SCHOOL SHOPPING AND TO HOGWARTS BUT YOU WILL COME STRAIGHT HOME OVER CHRISTMAS BREAK. NO FRIENDS, NO LETTERS, NO VISITS, NO BROOM RIDING, NO MAGIC, NO NOTHING!” _

The message ended after that, the howler ripping itself into tiny pieces afterward. Draco watched the bright red paper fall to the floor like confetti. It was odd hearing Regulus yell at him like that because he never really raised his voice all too much, especially at the son of his late paternal first cousin. The door to his bedroom opened, Fred Weasley standing there with a small smile on his face. He came in and patted Draco on the shoulder. 

“You too, huh?” Fred chuckled. “Don’t worry. You’ll probably get used to it soon enough. Congratulations on officially becoming a troublemaker. You’re one of us now.” 

Dear Merlin, a Weasley has accepted him with open arms. They’ve come a long way from fist fighting each other, that’s for sure. It’s new and he isn’t sure how to feel about it yet. 

But then he remembered that it might make Ron Weasley mad and, suddenly, being accepted by a Weasley didn’t seem so bad anymore.

* * *

As Regulus said, Mr. Nettle was the one to take them to Diagon Alley that afternoon. It was there that they officially met up with the Weasleys and the Potters. Molly Weasley ran over to the twins, grabbing them both by their ears and admonishing them for doing something so dangerous. “I still cannot believe you two would do such a thing. Your father nearly had a heart attack when he saw that his car was gone. You best hope there is not a single scratch on it if you want to have any presents over Christmas.” 

And with that, Ms. Weasley began dragging them deeper into Diagon Alley. The twins waved to them as they were dragged away which earned a silent chuckle from Blaise. 

“Hello, Mr. Malfoy,” Ms. Potter spoke up. Draco blinked, surprised that she addressed him of all people. “We’re going to go shopping now. Do you know what you need?” 

“Erm, yes.” Draco stuttered, unable to look away from the red-haired woman. Her eyes were so green. He felt like the one that was staring into his soul was Potter, not his mother. And that thought alone made an uncomfortable feeling twist in his chest. 

“Do you want to shop with us?” She offered. Potter looked up at his mother like she was crazy, a look that matched his father because he sure looked like he wanted to do anything else except drag a Malfoy along with them. Draco knew when he wasn’t wanted and he would have much preferred to stick with Blaise anyways. At least until they met up with the rest of their friends. 

Draco shook his head. “I’m fine. I have to meet up with my friends. Thank you, though. I’ll see you around.” 

Ms. Potter gave him a smile before she stood up straighter and walked away, with her husband whispering questions at her. Potter looked at Draco with a glare before he ran off to catch up with his parents. Draco rolled his eyes. 

“You didn’t need to stay with us, Mister Malfoy. You could have gone off with your little friend.” Mr. Nettle offered. Draco scoffed in response. 

“He isn’t my friend, he’s a nuisance. Now let’s get this show on the road, hm?” 

And they do. Draco and Blaise talk while Mr. Nettle, bless that man’s kind heart, takes care of most of the things for them. During their journey, they meet up with the rest of their friends. Daphne pulled him into a crushing hug and said that she missed him. Theo chimed in and said that they weren’t apart for that long. Greg joined in on the hug afterward, leaving Theo to roll their eyes at their shenanigans. 

As their journey continued, Draco caught a glimpse of Vincent Crabbe disappearing into Knockturn Alley with his mother. With his interest piqued, Draco elbowed Greg. “I’m going into Knockturn. Coming with?” He whispered.

Greg shrugged while Daphne looked at him like he was crazy. “Are you out of your mind?” 

Theo seemed interested in the conversation all of a sudden. “I’ll go if you two are going. I always wanted to go by myself without my father keeping me so close.”

Daphne gaped before she crossed her arms. “I’m absolutely not going with you on this one. And I’m not covering for you three either if he catches onto your little scheme. Right, Blaise?” Daphne looked over to Blaise who slowly nodded, not wanting to get on Daphne’s bad side. It was probably a good idea in the long run. Nettle would surely die on the spot seeing his new wife’s son disappearing into Knockturn Alley. 

“Mr. Nettle. Greg, Theo, and I are going to the bathroom in one of the shops. Can we catch up to you later?” Draco asked innocently. 

Mr. Nettle seemed a bit apprehensive. “Well, surely I can walk you there and wait…?” 

“Oh, I don’t know if that’s a good idea. Greg snuck too many chocolate frogs. Isn’t that right, Greg?” On cue, Greg hunched over and groaned. Mr. Nettle gasped, concerned at the sudden change in the boy’s health. “We’ll be there for a while. Greg never seems to learn not to eat too much candy. Especially without any afternoon tea, at least.” 

“Mm. Well, alright. We’ll be in Obscurus Books. Do feel better soon, Gregory.” Mr. Nettle tipped his hat to the three of them before he placed a hand on Daphne and Blaise’s backs. “Come along.” 

Daphne glared at them before she huffed, walking ahead of Mr. Nettle while Blaise shot them a sympathetic look over his shoulder. With that taken care of, they should have their chance to see what Crabbe is up to. Draco clapped Greg on the back as the three of them began making their way to Knockturn Alley. “Nice acting, Greg. Get yourself something nice when we get on the train to Hogwarts. It’s on me.” Draco said much to the delight of his taller friend. 

They arrived at the infamous alley relatively quickly. Theo began unclipping the clasp of his cloak. “Here, wear this.” He threw the cloak over Draco’s shoulders before pulling up the hood. “You’re the only one out of place here. We can’t have half the Wizarding World knowing that their already controversial Boy Who Lived is sniffing around Knockturn Alley.” 

Draco nodded, pulling the hood of the cloak down a bit farther before messing with his bangs in a way where they partially covered his lightning bolt shaped scar. Satisfied with his disguise, Draco walked forward to lead the charge. “Keep an eye out for Crabbe. He must be in one of these shops.” Draco instructed. 

“Wait, so we’re here to spy? Ugh, are you kidding me?” Theo grumbled. Draco shoved him lightly. 

“Less complaining, more searching.” 

As they walked through Knockturn Alley, Draco made sure to listen in on the conversations that were going on around him just in case he heard his name. He heard whispers about Death Eaters, Illegal Amortentia, and many more unsavory things that one would hear when sneaky about one of the slimest places in all of the Diagon Alley. It reminded him of when he came down here with his father back in the previous timeline. He was a lot less nervous because he didn’t have to worry about being caught lurking around here. He was a Malfoy, he used to belong to these kinds of places. 

But now, with his parents being traitors to the Dark Lady that took over this version of the world, he didn’t belong in these kinds of places at all. He was in this odd in between. Since he was the Boy Who Lived, he was expected to be a wizard of the Light so that meant that everyone who wasn’t that hated him. But since his parents were Dark wizards, all of the Light wizards hated him as well. It was a lose-lose situation for him all around. No one would be satisfied with what he did at the end of the day. 

But war was coming. Everyone would have to suck it up while he saved their lives. If he didn’t die in the process. Potter didn’t die so why would he? 

“Psst, Draco.” Greg nudged him. “Borgins and Burkes. They’re inside.” 

Of course they were. 

“Follow my lead.  _ Don’t  _ touch anything.” Draco whispered as he walked inside the shop as subtly as possible. He caught Greg reaching for something from the corner of his eye and tapped his friend’s shoulder with the silver snake head like his father once did to him. “ _ Gregory _ . Control yourself.”

Greg pouted adorably before stuffing his hands in his pockets instead. Just for that, Draco would make sure to buy him extra snacks on the train as an apology. They stuck to the darker corners of the shop as they listened in on the conversation between Ms. Crabbe and, strangely enough, Rabastan Lestrange who was behind the counter. It made sense that he worked here but it still didn’t make much sense that he was a free man. 

Draco leaned closer to his friends. “What can you tell me about Rabastan Lestrange?” He asked. 

“Oh, I know this one. Can I say it?” Greg whispered excitedly, looking at Theo like an excited puppy. Theo sighed, seemingly genuinely disappointed that he couldn’t show off his infinite amount of knowledge yet again. But who can ever say no to Greg’s excitement? Once Theo gave Greg the go ahead, Greg smiled as bright as the sun. “Rabastan Lestrange was a Death Eater along with his brother during the First War. They were all set to go to Azkaban after You-Know-Who was defeated. But he cried Imperius Curse at the last minute and even threw the other Death Eaters in hiding to the proverbial wolves just to avoid time in Azkaban.”

Draco raised an eyebrow. “Proverbial? Let me guess. You learned that from Daphne, didn’t you?” 

Greg bashfully looked to the floor. That was definitely a yes. Draco looked back to the conspiring Death Eaters. It was definitely a Slytherin move on Rabastan’s part. But he still seemed to be close to the other Death Eaters considering he was seen talking to Daphne’s mother, now talking to Crabbe’s mother, and even managed to get a job at Borgin and Burkes. Draco knew they were allied with Death Eaters from his own experiences visiting the shop. 

“They say the Ministry is still in a tizzy after the attack on Diagon Alley but it’s only a matter of time before they start snooping,” Crabbe’s mother explained. She pushed a couple of objects over the counter. “I’m getting rid of these for the time being. They’re not cheap so I expect a large sum of galleons for them.”

Rabastan carefully inspected the objects that Crabbe’s mother pushed over the counter. All of them were things that Draco could say that he was familiar with. Mainly the books that contained spells of dark natures. When Draco was younger, he used to look through them when he was a child before his father stopped him. How did the Crabbes end up with books from his childhood home? Did they steal them? 

_ Those little thieves, _ Draco thought to himself.  _ They don’t even have the decency to keep them.  _

“I can only offer about 83 galleons for these―” Rabastan began. Crabbe’s mother slammed her hand on the counter. 

“Only 83 galleons?! This stuff is in good condition! Not even a scratch on them!” 

“Sorry but that is all I can give you.” Rabastan then grinned. It was a grin that sent a shiver up Draco’s spine. It was truly conniving and evil. “Unless you do something for me, that is.” 

Crabbe’s mother stood up a bit straighter, immediately on guard. “Depends on what it is.”

Rabastan grinned a bit wider before he reached for something behind the counter. He placed a small, leather bound book in front of her with a sparkling green gem embedded in the front of it. “I’ve been meaning to get rid of this for a while now.” 

“It’s a journal.” 

“Yes. A special one that I’ve been meaning to leave in someone’s care. It must be―”

The end of that sentence never got to finish. All of a sudden, Draco was sent tumbling forward out of his hiding spot along with Theo and Greg. His head hit the corner of a shelf causing him to groan, just barely getting a look at his attacker before his hood was ripped down from his head to show his identity. 

“We’ve got a couple of eavesdroppers, mother.” It was Vincent Crabbe. He managed to find out they were there after all. Now that Draco thought about it, he was oddly absent from his mother’s side. Just when did he get so good at being sneaky? That used to be Draco’s job. Draco shook his shoulder in an attempt to get Crabbe to stop touching him but that only caused the boy’s nails to dig deeper into his skin. 

Rabastan peered at them from behind the counter as Crabbe’s mother came over cautiously to get a closer look. She took out her wand from her pocket to brush away Draco’s bangs as if she couldn’t be bothered to even touch him. “Merlin, it’s the Boy Who Lived…” She whispered once she caught sight of his signature scar. “Just what are you doing here, boy?” 

Draco jerked his head away from her wand. Having it pointed so close to his head wasn’t ideal. One quick spell and he could be dead. “I’m here to see one of my dearest uncles,” Draco answered on the spot. He peered past Crabbe’s mother to get a good look at Rabastan. He didn’t dare break eye contact. “Tell me. What do you know about that journal? What’s it for?” 

“Didn’t your mummy ever tell you it’s rude to eavesdrop, dear Draco?” The man carefully reached behind the counter. In a second, he had his wand pointed at him along with his group of friends. “Oh, wait. She was dead the moment she hit the ground while you were drooling in your crib, wasn’t she?” 

On impulse, Draco reached for his own wand but was stopped when Crabbe dug his own wand into Draco’s neck. Draco looked from the corner of his eye and saw Theo standing as still as stone, his arm being the only thing moving as he reached for his wand as carefully as he could. The two locked eyes for a second and Draco subtly shook his head. They were outnumbered. They’d have the play along for now if they wanted to make it out in one piece. 

“You didn’t answer my question,” Draco countered. “What is the journal for?” 

Rabastan shook his head. “Do you really think that I would tell you? Do you even understand what kind of position you are in?” 

“Oh please,” Draco scoffed. “You don’t really think I came here without a plan, do you? One wrong move and it’s a joint cell with your dear old brother in Azkaban. I’m sure he misses you terribly and would have plenty to say to you, traitor.” 

“The  _ nerve _ ―” His uncle fumed. “You and your whole family are traitors!” 

“The boy is bluffing,” Crabbe’s mother jumped in. “What kind of connections could you possibly have? You’re nothing but a child.” 

“A child who killed You Know Who while he was  _ drooling in his crib, _ as my uncle so kindly pointed out earlier.” Draco raised an eyebrow. “If you want to try me, then try me. Hope being proven wrong is worth a life sentence in Azkaban.” 

Nobody moved for a while. The Death Eaters traded glances with each other before they all slowly began lowering their wands. Draco’s gaze flicked from Crabbe to his mother and then to Rabastan. He didn’t trust either one of them but he needed to know what was in that journal. And, even if he didn’t get to, he’d very much like to make it out of this place alive. Dying in Knockturn Alley was not the most ideal way to go. 

Just when Draco finally began to relax, seeing that nobody was making a move, Crabbe quickly whipped around with his wand pointed right at Draco. A spell was on his lips. One that suspiciously sounded like Crucio―

_ “Expelliarmus!”  _

Crabbe’s Larch wood wand came whipping out of his hand, past Draco’s head, and into the hands of Harry bloody Potter. 

“Leave him alone,” Potter said darkly. “Or else.” 

Crabbe chuckled. “Oh look. Draco’s got himself a little boyfriend.” 

And then Greg, in a sudden display of strength, punched Crabbe right in the face. 

All hell broke loose after that. 

An unknown spell was sent Draco’s way, the blond instinctively holding up his arms to protect himself. And surprisingly, that did do the trick. The spell hit his walking stick, sending the spell rebounding elsewhere. Draco was knocked off balance, tumbling backward right into Potter’s arms. The boy was shooting out spells like it was his second nature. Just when did he get so good at duelling? And when did he ever start admitting Potter was better at him than anything? 

_ “Protego!” _ Draco shouted as he got to his feet. He smiled. Now that he remembered his previous life, he was also able to use his previous spells. It should make being the top student a whole lot easier. Granger’s reign as the brightest witch of her age was now over. It was now Draco Malfoy’s time to shine. His father would surely be proud of him if he could see him now. Draco’s gaze narrowed onto his uncle.  _ “Rictumsempra!” _

Rabastan blocked his attack with a spell of his own but Potter burst through his defense with a call of  _ Flipendo _ . His uncle fell back into one of the shelves, the books toppling over on top of him. Draco eyed the journal that still rested on the counter. He could make it if he kept advancing. 

Draco kept firing spell after spell, each one being blocked by Rabastan but Potter kept the man on edge with his own firing of spells. Once Draco was close enough, he made a dive for the counter and grabbed the leather journal. With it in his possession, he had no other reason to stay around anymore. He knew the purpose of the Crabbes being here and he had an object of interest. All there was left was to leave. 

“Greg! Theo! Let’s go!” Draco shouted over the chaos. His two friends were currently in the middle of a duel with Crabbe’s mother. The two quickly made a run for the door on Draco’s orders. He was just about to make it to the door when something large tackled him to the ground. With the air knocked out of him, the journal fell right out of his hands and slid elsewhere in the shop. 

Just then, the doors opened and a whole bunch of people flooded the place. Most recognizably, a whole bunch of tufts of orange. The heavy weight disappeared from Draco’s body and he was helped up by a rough hand that belonged to Arthur Weasley.

“Are you alright, Malfoy?” Mr. Weasley asked. Draco nodded hurriedly, looking around in a panic. Where did the journal get off to? 

“My word! Good thing I came to save the day. You boys would have died!” Professor Lockhart was among the Weasley entourage. “Just what’re you doing in such a place of ill repute?” 

“We were following a lead,” Greg confessed readily. He luckily kept it vague. 

As everyone buzzed and whispered, Draco locked eyes with Rabastan who quickly slipped away into the back followed by Crabbe and his mother. He huffed. Not only were they gone but so was the journal. It couldn’t have gotten away that easily. He knew that they didn’t have it so it had to be around here somewhere. But where? He wanted to look around but Lockhart’s hand on his shoulder kept him in place. 

Draco leaned over and gave Theo a look. The other shrugged. He didn’t have it. And he doubted that Greg had it too. So, either it was still in the shop or someone among the group had it. But who would have picked it up? 

“They got away.” Ms. Potter mused. “Nothing we can do about it now, unfortunately. Unless you boys would like to press charges? We can only pursue a case like this if you do.” 

Draco shook his head. “No, no thank you. It’s fine.” He said politely. He didn’t need to make any more enemies. At least for now. His threat of sending Rabastan to Azkaban could still be used if he ran into him again at least. 

They all left the small shop and returned to the hustle and bustle of Diagon Alley. Mr. Potter was praising his son, Ms. Weasley was talking excitedly to Ms. Potter and Mr. Weasley was stuck listening to Lockhart go on and on about nothing and everything at the same time. Thank Merlin it wasn’t him. For now, at least. Greg lightly nudged him with his shoulder. 

“Did you see what I did?” Greg asked proudly. 

“Yes I did,” Draco said with a smirk. Greg’s excitement was like a crup puppy showing its owner that it just learned how to fetch. He simply couldn’t stop the smile that spread on his face. He nudged the large, lumbering figure back. “Good job.” 

“Did you see what  _ I  _ did?” Potter jumped into the conversation. “You’re welcome, by the way.” 

“I didn’t ask for your help, Potter.” Draco huffed.

“You didn’t need to ask for my help to actually need it, Malfoy.” 

“I didn’t need it then.” 

Potter scoffed and rolled his eyes which Draco ignored, turning his attention to Theo instead. He hoped for at least some kind of distraction from Potter being an overall nuisance but Theo was no help. He only offered a sympathetic look before turning his attention elsewhere. Silent and not contributing to the conversation whatsoever. Leave it to a Slytherin to only contribute to a conversation when it benefits them. 

“Oh, there you boys are!” A familiar voice called out. Mr. Nettle was coming towards them with a relieved smile on his face with Blaise and Daphne trailing behind him. “I went to look for you boys in just about every shop but no one saw you anywhere. What happened?” 

“Oh, the boys just got a little lost is all.” Mr. Weasley said with a smile. “Took a wrong turn elsewhere but we found them just in time.” 

“Thank goodness,” Nettle sank to his knees in front of Draco, placing his large hands on Draco’s slender shoulders. “I was worried sick. I’d surely be thrown in Azkaban for managing to lose the Boy Who Lived.” And then Nettle pulled Draco into a tight hug, surprising him. He didn’t think the man cared that much about him. Or maybe he was just relieved that Draco wasn’t dead so he wouldn’t have to face criminal charges. Draco shares an awkward look with Blaise before he lightly pats the older man on the head. 

“There, there,” Draco said awkwardly, attempting to comfort the man once he saw the shaking of the man’s shoulders as he silently sobbed against him. “It’ll be alright.” 

“Come on, Mr. Nettle. Mother would surely have your head if she knew you were embarrassing House Zabini like this.” Blaise whispered, luckily saving Draco from a shower of bogeys that Mr. Nettle would surely have blown into his cape should he have been given enough time. 

“Ah, right,” Mr. Nettle finally gathered his bearings, the man straightening his hair and quickly wiping his nose with his silk sleeve. “My apologies. I’m just so glad that you’re alright. A-Along with Mr. Nott and Mr. Goyle, of course.” 

Greg snorted while Theo mumbled something under his breath. It was obvious that Draco was the favorite among the group of kids he was tasked with watching over. But that came with being the Boy Who Lived, didn’t it? All the adults seemed to love you and give you passes on just about everything. Well, sometimes. Sirius Black seemed to hate his guts and never had any sympathy for him despite them being blood related, unlike with Potter. And then the whole Wizarding World hated him, again, unlike with Potter when he was the Boy Who Lived. 

The world just seemed to love Potter regardless of who the Boy Who Lived was. He was always popular wherever he went. Not tasked with saving the world? Just have famous war heroes as parents, one being a well-respected Auror and the other being a top Quidditch player. Potter continued to be spoiled by the universe like always. 

“Well, it’s best that we start heading home. I have to get dinner ready for everyone,” Molly said, dusting off the front of her frumpy orange dress. She looked to Draco, carefully inspecting him. “Do you want to come over, Mr. Malfoy?” 

And then got an idea. One that began forming inside his head the moment he saw the panicked look that he sent to Ms. Weasley. 

“Actually, I would love to.” Draco said with a polite smile. “I believe we both live in Ottery St. Catchpole, do we not? I’m sure my caretaker would appreciate me being close by.” 

Daphne walked up to him. “Just what are you planning?” She whispered. Draco shooed her away, looking at Potter instead. Seeing the boy's eyes blaze with anger was very satisfying to him. Yet again, he was going to make Harry Potter’s life a living hell at every chance he got. It would be just like old times. 

“Besides, I’d love to spend time with my friend if he’s going. Isn’t that right,  _ Harry? _ ”

“We’re not friends.” 

“Harry!” Ms. Potter gasped. “Apologize.” 

“It’s alright, Ms. Potter. It’s just how our dynamic is.” Draco covered for him. 

“Y-Yeah.” Potter ducked his head away from his mother’s glare. “It’s just how we are, mum...”

Ms. Weasley gave Draco a nervous smile. “Alrighty then. Did anyone else want to come?” 

Unsurprisingly, everyone one of his friends shook their head in response. Even Gregory, of all people. Some bodyguard he was for letting him walk into the Weasel Den all by himself. But Draco could handle himself if things got out of hand. Besides, they’re surely not stupid enough to harm the Boy Who Lived even if they most likely despised his parents.

“We can take him to Hogwarts, Mr. Nettle. Don’t you worry.” Mr. Weasley assured Blaise’s new stepfather, “You can just bring Draco’s stuff to the Platform, we’ll handle the rest.” 

The man gave Mr. Weasley a jerky nod before he smiled at Draco. “Have fun, alright?” 

And that’s exactly what Draco planned on doing. 

* * *

Ronald Weasley’s face turning the brightest shade of red as possible was a delight to Draco. He did his best to hold back his laughter as he argued with his mummy and daddy about how much of a bad idea it was to invite the big bad Malfoy into their home. Of course, he was immediately scolded by Ms. Weasley for being rude which earned him a swift hit on the bum with a rolled up newspaper. 

“Make yourself at home, Mr. Malfoy.” Ms. Weasley said warmly, unwrapping the newspaper and placing it gently onto the dining room table. 

The Burrow was just as Draco pictured it to be, as described by his father. A crowded weasel den that could barely even hold the weasels that it contained. There were handmade quilts and jumpers strewn about in the living room, piles of dishes spilling out from over the sink, and plenty of redheads roaming about. Just being inside made him feel utterly trapped.

Even the cabin that he had with Regulus was bigger than this. But that may be because it was only the two of them that lived in the house. 

“Not everything to your liking,  _ Draco _ _?_ ” Potter asked mockingly. 

“And what makes you say that, Potter?”

“Your face is all scrunched up. Like you’re taking out week old trash.” 

Draco crossed his arms and forced his face to relax. “This place is awful. It’s too…” He trailed off. What was the word he was looking for? 

“Too warm for your cold, Slytherin soul?” Potter finished for him. Draco rolled his eyes. 

“No.” But yes. It did make the Slytherin in him want to lash out and fill his nearest victim with venom. 

He felt very out of his element but he did need to get on the Weasleys' good sides. The journal disappeared when they all piled into that shop so someone in that group had to have managed to grab it while he wasn’t looking. They probably didn’t even think anything of it. People like the Weasleys had no choice but to follow the law of Finders Keepers Losers Weepers considering they could barely afford new school robes for their kids. 

Lucky them that all of them are in Gryffindor. They’d probably have to start taking out a loan if one of the Weasleys ended up in a place like Ravenclaw. Or, worse,  _ Slytherin _ . Merlin forbid a Weasley ends up there. The whole house would probably have a meltdown. 

“Malfoy!” Fred shouted from across the room, barreling towards him like a bat out of hell. He wrapped one arm around Draco’s neck and the other around Potter’s, bringing them uncomfortably close to each other. “Tell me. Would you rather go on a date with Morgana le Fay or Merlin?” 

Draco raised an eyebrow. “What does that have to do with anything?” 

“Just answer the question. No harm done.” 

He couldn’t help but feel like this was some sort of trap. Nevertheless, Draco carefully thought about his answer before deciding. “I’d have to go with Merlin,” He mused. “He’s the most famous member of Slytherin, skilled in wandless magic, and is even rumored to be both a Seer and a Metamorphmagus. Meanwhile, Morgan le Fey only had a fraction of his abilities but was only powerful because of her skills in dark magic.” 

He got that answer from  _ The Tales and Trials of Merlin and Morgan _ . Regulus practically forced him to read it when he was younger, claiming it as his favorite book that he’s had since he was a kid. And he needed someone else to talk to it about. And what use is a little cousin if you can’t force them to like the same interests as you? 

“Interesting choice. According to Ginny’s magazine, you have an addictive personality and a love life destined for tragedy.” 

Draco’s thoughts briefly went to Cedric Diggory. That technically wasn’t wrong, per se. 

“That stuff is a bunch of hogwash. That’s like saying you’re destined to be a dark wizard if you get a skull in your tea leaves.” Draco countered. 

“Isn’t that a divination thing, right?” Potter cut in. “Uncle Sirius complained about the same thing.” 

“Please do not tell me you’re implying Sirius Black and I are alike.” 

“That’s exactly what I’m implying.” 

“I  _ can  _ and  _ will  _ tell your mother you’re bullying me.” Draco threatened. 

Potter smirked. “Jokes on you. Sirius is my mum’s favorite.” 

Of course he is. Draco dragged his hand over his face, resisting the urge to grab him by the shoulders and shake him like a Bert’s Beans Fizzy Pop. Though, that urge was quickly squashed when he noticed that George was approaching him with a broom in one hand and a Golden Snitch in the other. He held it out to Draco with a challenging smirk on his face. 

“Seeker’s Game to pass the time, Draco?” George asked. 

Draco took the Golden Snitch into his hand, carefully inspecting it. It was a bit dirty and not as shiny as the one at Hogwarts but it would have to do. “Just let me make sure of one thing,” Draco replied. He took out his wand and ran a deep inspection spell on it. It hadn’t been tampered with  _ magically  _ but the twins were sneaky enough to tamper with it in a way that Draco couldn’t detect if they wanted to. 

But he was bored enough to give it a try nonetheless. What kind of infamous Seeker could he be if he couldn’t deal with a tampered Snitch? 

“Fine. We can play.” Draco decided. Fred clapped him on the shoulder. 

“Good lad,” Fred said with a smile before turning his head away from him. “Mum! We’re going to play a Seeker’s Game! Tell us when dinner is ready!” 

Draco flinched, regretting being so close to that loudmouth while he shouted to his mother. 

“I’ll referee,” said James Potter, sitting up from the couch as he adjusted his large glasses. He was the spitting image of Harry Potter if Draco looked at him like this. Without all of the flashing lights, the fake smiles, and the editing of the Daily Prophet. Potter definitely got his messy mop of hair from his dad, in contrast with the neat fiery red of his mother. He’d say it’s a shame but Potter with red hair just seemed like the oddest thing. He doesn’t even think he can picture it. 

“Make sure you go easy on them, James.” Ms. Potter leaned up and kissed her husband on the cheek. “They’re kids. Not recruits.” 

Potter made a slight gagging sound at the sight of his parents showing affection. “Ron, you coming?” Potter called out to his red headed best friend. Weasley quickly stuffed some kind of snack in his mouth as he nodded, hurriedly getting up to grab his stuff from a broom closet. How that bumbling idiot will end up getting in two whole relationships during his time at Hogwarts will continue to be a mystery to Draco. 

They all filed out into the backyard, George handing a broom that Draco could borrow during their game. He was almost offended that he would give him such a low quality product to fly with. Not even almost. He very much was offended. Even McGonagall gave him something better to work with. His offense must have shown on his face because Mr. Potter laughed from beside Draco. 

“Are you alright, Malfoy?” Mr. Potter asked. 

“I’m fine, sir. Just excited to win.” 

He raised an eyebrow at that. “Think you’ll beat good ol’ Harry, eh?” 

“It’s what I’m hoping for.” 

Mr. Potter snorted under his breath before he clapped his hands, gathering the attention of the four other players. “Alright, fellas, this will be a Seeker’s Game so you know the rules.” He announced. “No teams. Just wits and skills. The first one to catch the Snitch is considered the winner. We’ll play for three rounds.” 

Three rounds to beat Potter in Quidditch. In front of his own father no less? Draco smirked. That was something that he simply couldn’t resist. He’d gladly prove to the Potters that the Malfoys were more than just Galleons and Dark Arts. Malfoys could be expert Quidditch players too. All of them got onto their brooms and flew high into the air, getting in their positions. 

Draco made brief eye contact with Potter before looking ahead.

“Begin!” Mr. Potter shouted from below.

He immediately began looking around for that familiar golden shine that he was used to seeing on the Quidditch pitch. But like habit, his gaze kept going to Harry Potter. It felt natural playing against him like this, flying about and looking for the Snitch. Just like old times. In this universe, Potter should be the one making his way onto the Gryffindor Quidditch team this year. Getting an earlier look at his strategies and the way he plays should help him beat him in the future. 

Potter suddenly shoots forward on his broom, snapping Draco out of his reverie. Oh, bloody hell. Draco quickly followed after him, his gaze falling onto the Golden Snitch that hovered not too far away from Weasley’s head. 

“Ron, to your left!” Potter shouted. Weasley followed his instructions as quickly as he could, reaching his arm out to try and snatch the Snitch. The fluttering golden ball zipped away from Weasley before he could touch it, flying away to the right instead. Draco leaned forward onto his room after it, matching Potter’s speed. Draco nudged Potter with his broom, the green-eyed boy nudging him back with just as much source. 

“Quit following me, Malfoy!” 

“Right back at you, Potter!” 

Draco flew past him then, catching sight of the Golden Snitch at the same time as the Weasley twins. Potter quickly caught up with him. 

“Fred, try to send it over here!” Potter barked out to Fred.

“George,” seethed Draco, a threat on the tip of his tongue. “If you do that, I’ll tell Ms. Zabini to marry Blaise off to Pansy bloody Parkinson!” 

A satisfied smirk crossed Draco’s face when he saw how George froze in his actions, his brother looking back at him with a mischievous smile. He heard Potter growl from beside him before he shot forward quickly for the Snitch. Draco flew after him, his arm held out in front of him as he reached for the fluttering golden ball. His fingertips just barely touched it before the ball went flying higher into the air. 

Draco immediately pulled upward onto his broom, clinging tightly onto it as he flew towards the golden ball. Potter was right beside him before long, the both of them reaching for it. 

“C’mon, Harry, you’ve got it!” shouted Weasley. 

As if invigorated by Weasley’s faith in him, Potter shot forward just a few inches ahead of Draco and wrapped his hand around the Golden Snitch. Potter held it up high in the air, victorious. 

Mr. Potter and Weasley cheered loudly. Fred and George clapped, but they both gave Draco sympathetic looks. Draco squirmed uncomfortably. He didn’t need their pity. Especially over a mock Quidditch game. Potter moved his broom closer to Draco, holding the fluttering Snitch out to him.

“Do you want the honors of releasing it for the next round, Malfoy?” Potter asked with a smirk. 

“Whatever,” Draco scoffed, snatching the Snitch out of his hand. “Just know that I let you win.” 

Draco proved himself in the second round against Potter, making it a tie. They didn’t get to break that tie because Ms. Weasley had poked her head out of the door and called out to them informing them that dinner was ready. They all flew down back to the ground, Fred, and George on either side of their little brother as they lightly shoved him and talked. 

Meanwhile, Draco was stuck with two Potters on either side of him. Admittedly, he was very upset at being tied with Potter. He wanted to prove to him that his little victory was nothing more than a fluke.

“You’re not still upset that I beat you, are you?” Potter teased. 

“We’ll settle this on a proper Quidditch pitch, Potter.” 

“I suppose we will.” 

When they got back inside, Draco passed by George and patted him on the back. “Don’t worry. I'm a good friend to Blaise. There is absolutely no way that I would convince his mother to marry him off to Pansy Parkinson,” He placed the broom in his hand for him to put away. While a part of him still adored Pansy, they were just not meant to be friends in this world. So, at least to him now, she was a shrill harpy that he could not stand. But if he had the chance to befriend her and bring her over to the side of the light, he would in a heartbeat. “Now be a dear and put this away for me?” 

George elbowed Draco in the arm before he walked off to put his broom in the closet for him. Draco rubbed his arm to alleviate the pain just as Ms. Weasley approached him. 

“You’re not allergic to pheasant, are you?” 

“No, Ms. Weasley. It’s my favorite, in fact.” 

“Lovely. I wasn’t sure so I made an alternative meal  instead ― ” 

“I’ll have both,” Draco interrupted her with a smile. “Thank you for your hospitality.” 

Ms. Weasley blinked at that, caught off guard by Draco’s sudden kindness. But she covered her shock up with a smile and a light pat on his back. “Big stomach, I see. Just make sure you have room for dessert.”

Draco began making his way to the kitchen table, observing the mismatched chairs that probably came from all over the house to accommodate the guests. The food on the table came in all kinds of colors. It reminded him of the food at Ms. Zabini’s wedding. It really put in perspective how bland the food that he had with Regulus really was. They had the same meal almost every day, only using stuff they grew in their garden. 

The Floo suddenly roared to life as Sirius Black stepped out of it while carrying a container of food. He was followed by a man that Draco recognized as Remus Lupin. He would become their Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher during their third year. And, despite Draco’s beliefs at the time, he had to admit that the man was a damn good teacher. He actually learned something for once in those classes.

“So sorry we’re late, Molly!” Sirius shouted. “We’ve brought cobbler as an apology!” 

“Just put it on the table!” Ms. Weasley called out from elsewhere in the house. Shit, he was at the kitchen table. Draco looked around frantically, trying to calculate a proper escape route but it was too late. Professor Black stepped into the kitchen, sharing a joke with Lupin, before they both stopped when they noticed Draco’s presence. 

Professor Black approached the table cautiously, keeping his eyes on Draco. He placed the container on the table before he crossed his arms and just looked at him. 

“And what are you doing here, Mr. Malfoy?” He asked. 

“I was invited, Sirius.” Draco responded. “Or are you going to force me to call you Professor even when we’re not in school?” 

The tension in the air was thick. The both of them didn’t say a word, just carefully regarded each other’s presence. Lupin was the one to break them out of their little staring contest. He approached Draco with a friendly smile and placed both his hands on his shoulders. Draco was quickly taken off guard by the sudden friendliness of the man. 

“Hello,” greeted Lupin. “I’m Remus. I was a friend of your godfather.” 

Draco’s eyes widened. His godfather. “Do you mean Severus?” Draco asked, hope filling his chest. He was curious about the fate of his godfather after he got his memories back. He wasn’t at Hogwarts so he had to be off somewhere in the world. “Where is he?” 

“Did no one tell you?” Lupin asked, shooting a worried look to Sirius who actually seemed to be concerned for once. 

Draco shook his head. Lupin took in a deep breath before he got down on both of his knees so he could be face to face with him. 

“Draco, I am so sorry to be the one to tell you this,” Lupin sighed. “Severus.  He― ” 

Before he could finish, Ms. Weasley swooped into the kitchen followed by a herd of hungry sons and a single daughter. The Potters followed afterward, Harry being carried by his father on his back before the boy was let down and ran over to Professor Black. The two of them embraced and began talking excitedly immediately. He could already tell Potter was bragging about winning a match against Draco. 

“I’ll tell you later. It would probably be best if we were alone.” The older man patted Draco on the shoulder before he stood up straight and began greeting his old friends.

Draco took a seat at the table, all the hugging and smiling suddenly reminding him that he really was out of place here. Besides, he didn’t exactly have anything to smile about. Something happened to Severus and he didn’t have any idea as to what. It couldn’t be anything good either considering Lupin figured it would be best for them to talk by themselves. 

_ I was a friend of your godfather. _ Was? 

George and Fred suddenly sat on either side of him, grabbing at different dishes and dumping some of the food onto his plate. 

“Mum’s yams are the best. You’ll love it.” George said. 

“And her cabbage,” Fred joined in. “Pass the cobbler, Ronnie-kins!” 

Draco snorted. The Weasley twins really weren’t all that bad. He picked up the pieces of pheasant that one of them loaded onto his plate and placed it in his mouth. Immediately he was met with a different taste that he wasn’t expected. It burned his mouth in a way that he couldn’t describe. He swallowed and blinked, tears pricking his eyes. 

“Bet you high class pure-bloods aren’t used to that kind of stuff, huh, Malfoy?” Potter said jokingly. 

“What is it?” He asked, stuffing his mouth with more just to see if he could recognize the taste. 

“Seasoning. Garam masala to be exact.” 

While he’s heard of that seasoning before, he doesn’t think he’s actually ever used it before on his own food before. Absentmindedly, Draco found himself smiling. “It’s good,” complimented Draco before eating some more. He only paused when he noticed just how loud the silence was in the room. He looked around to see the shocked faces of everyone at the table, all of them looking right at him. 

“What?” 

They quickly avoided all eye contact with him and began continuing with their dinner. From that point on, Draco was included more in their conversations. All of them threw so many questions at him that he had a hard time keeping up. 

“Do you have any interest in joining the ministry, Draco?” Mr. Weasley asked. 

“I’m not sure yet, Mr. Weasley.” 

“Who is your favorite Quidditch team?” asked the Weaselette.

“Holyhead Harpies, of course.” That answer seemed to please her. 

“Tell us more about Pettigrew. Blaise kept the details vague.” George requested.

“No can do. It’s a secret.” 

By the time dinner was over and Draco was full, the evening had turned to night. The adults were having a fun time celebrating the last night with their kids around, drinking and singing to the music that came from the Wireless. Draco watched on, refusing to admit that he was actually amused and having fun. His eyes went from the participants to the only other person who wasn’t participating: Remus Lupin. 

The two of them locked eyes and Draco stood up a bit straighter when the man motioned for him to come to him. Draco followed his request, the werewolf leading him away from all the noise and into the backyard for some privacy. He could still hear the muffled music even from outside. Have they never considered a Silencing Charm? Honestly. 

“So, are you going to tell me what happened with Severus now?” It was a statement posed as a question. He wouldn’t allow Lupin to wiggle his way out of it. 

“Yes,” The older man took in a deep breath before releasing it. “Severus was the one that betrayed your parents. He exposed them to You-Know-Who, killed a bunch of muggles, then disappeared completely.” 

A lot of things were odd about this situation. But the oddest thing to him was the way that Lupin sounded genuinely sad about this fact. Were he and Severus close in this universe? At least before the whole alleged turning in his parents thing. 

“You don’t really believe that, do you?” Draco questioned, crossing his arms. 

“The evidence was all there, Draco.” 

“But Severus wouldn’t do something like that.” 

“Draco,” Lupin said wearily. “I understand that you’re upset. But you don’t know what Severus was like, especially during the First Wizarding War. Innocent men don’t flee the country.” 

He frowned. He was technically right. He didn’t know what Severus was like in this specific universe. The circumstances were different here. And if he could end up friends with a werewolf who obviously missed his presence then what else could he be capable of? Logic said to doubt Severus but his comfort levels said to deny that accusation until the very end. 

“Well, they haven’t caught him yet so until he’s announced as guilty then I’ll choose to believe in him.” And if he ended up getting caught and proved as guilty? Well, Draco would cross that bridge when he got there. Draco then peered over at Lupin, “Guess that Gryffindor loyalty only extends to fellow Gryffindors then.” 

“I promise you that I have my suspicions of Severus Snape for a very good reason. And even if he ended up exonerated, I do not know if I could forgive him for leaving.” 

“Why?” 

Lupin looked down, nervously scratching the back of his ear. “You’ll understand when you’re older.” 

Draco wanted to argue that he wasn’t a kid but, at least to them, he was. Draco let it drop and fell silent instead. Just then, the backdoor opened and Weasley poked his head out. He didn’t look all too pleased. 

“Mum says you need to come in and set up your bed, Malfoy. You’re rooming with Harry and me.” 

Oh great. Just what he needed. More bad news. 

Draco shrugged and made his way back inside, only pausing to shoot Lupin a look over his shoulder. Only a few seconds after Draco came in did Lupin come in as well. He was immediately stopped by Professor Black, most likely interrogating the poor man. The music had quieted down into nothing more than background noise as the adults continued to talk amongst themselves. 

He followed Weasley up the long flight of stairs and into a bedroom where Ms. Weasley was waiting. She had just finished transfiguring a pillow into a bed when she noticed him. 

“Ah, hello Draco.” All the Weasleys seem to like him enough to have him on a first name basis. He was a bit unsure about that. “The bathroom is open so feel free to wash up now. Your pajamas and other toiletries are already in the bathroom. They’re yours to keep.” 

“Thank you, Ms. Weasley.” 

She walked past him and towards Weasley. “Be nice to him, Ronald.” She said through gritted teeth before she left the room. Weasley rolled his eyes when he saw the coast was clear.

“Don’t take too long in the bathroom, Malfoy. It’s to the left from here.” 

“I’ll take as long as I wish to, Weaselbee.” Draco swept past him and followed his directions towards the bathroom. Like she said, his toiletries were there resting on top of the pajamas that she picked out for him. He picked up the top of the pajamas, carefully inspecting it. It was an oversized green jumper with the letter D on the front. 

He really had no choice but to wear it, did he? 

Just as Draco was beginning to take his shirt off, the door to the bathroom opened. Potter walked inside, closing the door behind him. 

“It’s occupied, you pervert!” Draco shouted. 

Potter blinked, just noticing the position he caught Draco in. He quickly turned his head to the side, the tips of his ears turning red. 

“Um, sorry.” He apologized. 

Draco pushed his shirt back down, smoothing out the wrinkles of his shirt. “What could possibly be so important that you had to barge in here, you half-wit?” 

Potter jerked his head back around to look at Draco. “I want to know what you’re planning.” 

“Planning?” 

“Why are you  _ here _ _,_ Draco? You didn’t just come here to make friends with the Weasleys.” 

“And if I did?” 

“I may not be smart like Hermione but I know when you’re up to something. Now spill it.”

“If I tell you will you let me shower in peace?” Draco asked with a sigh.

Potter quickly nodded. He sighed. Nothing too detrimental would happen if he ended up telling him. He’d, of course, have to lie about some details to keep Potter out of his business. 

“In the shop, I think someone grabbed my journal. It’s made of leather with a gem embedded on the front of it. I assumed one of the Weasleys grabbed it so I decided that I needed to investigate.” Draco explained. 

“Couldn’t you just ask one of them if they had it?” 

“To make sure no one peaked inside. If I said it was mine, people would be more likely to peak. It’s personal to me. Besides, I just wanted to make your day a little worse by coming over.” 

Potter gave him a deadpan look. “You’re a little shit.” 

Draco snorted. “And you’re a pervert. Can you get out now?” 

The green-eyed boy rolled his eyes. “I’ll search around for your little journal, Malfoy. I’ll tell you what I find.” 

Potter being a hero like always. Draco simply shrugged, not giving a verbal answer or any kind of thanks. Potter reached for the door handle but the door opened by itself. Bill Weasley was at the door. 

“Oh!” He said in surprise, observing the two boys. He then gave Potter a knowing smile. “‘scuse me, fellas.”

And then he backed out, closing the door behind him. Potter quickly turned red as he ran out of the door and chased after the older Weasley brother, shouting something about a misunderstanding. Draco stretched his arms above his head before he began doing his nightly ritual so he could finally get some sleep. 

* * *

“Malfoy, wake up.” 

Draco rolled over in the bed that Ms. Weasley transfigured for him, chasing after the wisps of a dream. But yet again, that annoying voice that seemed so familiar called out to him again. 

“Malfoy!” 

A sharp pain snapped him out of his sleepy state of mind, quickly sitting up in bed and blindly reaching for his walking stick that he placed beside him. He pointed it at the perpetrator who happened to be Harry Potter himself, dressed in his garish Gryffindor robes. Potter crossed his arms and looked at him like a disappointed parent would their child. 

“What is it?” 

“We missed the train,” said Potter.

Now that really woke Draco up. He rubbed away the sleep from his eyes and threw the bedsheets off of him. “Why didn’t anyone wake me up?!” Draco hissed, hurriedly looking around for his clothes from the previous day. 

“I dunno,” Potter muttered, tugging at the sleeves of his robes. That most likely meant he definitely knew why. If Draco had to hazard a guess, Ronald Weasley had something to do with it. “I only rushed back because Mr. Weasley said that he had your journal here. So, honestly, it’s your fault that I’m late. You owe me.” 

Draco scoffed. “Whatever. Where are my clothes and my journal?”

“It’s downstairs. But your clothes are still in the wash. You’re just going to have to wear that to school.” 

He blanched, looking down at his outfit. The accursed Weasley jumper along with the loose fitting pajama pants that were probably somebody’s hand me downs. He then looked back at Potter like he was crazy. The green-eyed boy merely shrugged before slipping out of the room. Draco cracked his knuckles and slipped on his shoes before running after Potter. 

“How are we going to get to Hogwarts then?” 

“I’ve got an idea. Just follow me.” Potter instructed. 

Draco followed behind Potter, the other boy leading him to through the house. They first stopped in the kitchen where the journal that Draco was looking for rested. Though, there was something off about it that he couldn't place. He ceased his quick inspection of the journal when Potter patted him on the shoulder and lead him outside to where that familiar car owned by the Weasleys rested. Potted lifted up the keys and dangled them in front of Draco.

“Did you want to drive?” 

“...I don’t know how to.” Draco reluctantly admitted.

“Ah. Bit of a bummer, isn’t it?” 

Draco gritted his teeth. He just loved being better at something than Draco. He huffed and went to the passenger side of the car, getting into the seat and buckling up. Potter entered the car a few seconds afterward, turning the keys and starting the car. Draco watched his focused expression as he inspected each button and lever on the car. 

And it was in that moment that Draco realized something. 

Potter probably didn't even know how to work a flying car either.


	3. The Not So Golden Boy

“...aco.”

Draco groaned, his head feeling like it was going to split open. His eyelids felt like they were carrying a Hippogriff on them, refusing to let him see his surroundings. He was swimming in the perpetual darkness of the unknown. 

“Draco.” 

Someone was calling his name. The voice was familiar to him. It was soft and almost seemed to caress him, slowly shrugging the weight off of his eyes and urging them to open. But there was this nagging feeling resting somewhere in the back of his head. It was like some kind of insatiable itch. 

A light slap on the cheek was the thing that finally got Draco’s eyes to open, slowly focusing on the world around him. And the first thing that greeted him when he woke up was Harry Potter, his face leaned in very close to his. Those bright green eyes widened before letting out a breath of relief. 

“Bloody hell. I thought I killed the Boy Who Lived.” 

Draco immediately shoved Potter away from him, ignoring the slight warmth that he could feel in his cheeks. He looked around, seeing that they were in the backseat of the car but their surroundings had changed. The last thing Draco remembered was the car falling headfirst into a tree on the Hogwarts grounds. Now, from looking out the window, he could see that they were in some kind of forest. It was dark and awfully familiar. 

And then it hit him. Shit.

“Don’t tell me we’re in the Forbidden Forest.” Draco groaned. 

“Well, that would technically be lying.” 

“Quit being a smart-arse for five seconds,” Draco sat up straighter in the seat, peering out the window for whatever deadly creatures lurked around in the forest. Like blood-sucking Death Eaters. He still wasn’t over what he saw in the forest the last time he came. And he did not want to experience it all over again. “You got us into this mess. Surely you can get us out of it.” 

“What makes you think I can do something about this?” Potter asked, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned back into the seat. “I’m not Hermione.” 

“Why do you even hang out with her if you aren’t picking up what little smarts she actually has?” 

“Because she’s my friend and I don’t use her for her smarts?” Potter rolled his eyes. “I know it’s impossible for a Slytherin like you to understand but sometimes people can be friends without certain benefits. Besides, Hermione has plenty of smarts. She’s the top of our class!”

Draco clenched his fist and took a deep breath, resisting the urge to punch him. He was still very touchy about who was and wasn't at the top of the class. He and Daphne would surely usurp her of that title this year. What did Potter know anyway? Absolutely nothing. But talks about who was at the top of the class could wait until later.

“This is stupid and irrelevant to our situation.” Draco forced out through his teeth. “Right now, we have to figure out a way to get out of here. Does the car still work?”

“Not really.” 

“What do you mean not really?” 

“It won’t listen to me.” 

Draco paused, his head processing the absolute stupidity that was coming out of Potter’s mouth. “What the bloody hell do you mean?!” He shouted. “It’s a magic car!” 

“Exactly!” Potter argued. “You know how magic gets! It does what it wants!” 

He ran his hands down his face, his thoughts racing as he tried to come up with some kind of plan to get them out of this predicament. He didn’t know a thing about muggle cars let alone ones that were imbued with magic. Without Hagrid and Fang around, the Forbidden Forest was a dangerous place. If they couldn’t get the car up and running then they’d have to hike their way back to Hogwarts. But would it be worth it to risk their safety? 

But they couldn’t stay in the car forever either. 

After a few brief seconds of thinking it over, Draco finally made his decision. 

“Alright, Potter, this is what we’re going to do. We’re going to leave the car here and try to make our way back to Hogwarts alive. But if we run into trouble then we’ll come straight back to it and wait it out.” 

“But what about getting the car back to Mr. Weasley?” Potter patted the leather seat. “He’ll miss it terribly if it goes missing.” 

“Forget the car! What about _me?_ _I’ll_ be the one terribly missed if we stay here any longer, Potter!” Draco snapped. “It’d be a bloody shame for the entire Wizarding World if I died in the Forbidden Forest of all places.” 

Potter fell silent for a second before a knowing smirk appeared on his face. “Are you scared, Malfoy?”

“ _ You. Wish. _ ” Draco enunciated before he got out of the car, slamming the door closed behind him. Potter joined him a few seconds afterward, looking like he was holding back a smile. He was really tempted to punch him in the face. Could he get away with it? He was the Boy Who Lived, after all. 

The sound of the car starting got both of their attention. Draco whipped his head around and watched with abject horror as it drove itself off deeper into the Forbidden Forest at top speed. “Ron is gonna kill me for this…” Potter whispered beside him. Draco ran his hands over his face. Well, there went their backup plan. He turned on his heel and began walking, unsheathing his wand from its cane holder. 

_ “Appare Vestigium,” _ Draco whispered, spinning around in a circle as a wave of golden magic shot from his wand and surrounded both him and Potter. Large, golden footprints began to appear nearby. Draco pointed in the direction where they were really supposed to go, comforted by the fact that the spell worked. At least they wouldn’t be wandering around the Forbidden Forest without any idea where they were going. “Let’s go. If we’re lucky then we’ll be able to sneak back in.”

“Wait, how were you able to do that?” Potter asked. “When did you learn this spell?” 

“None of your business.” Draco sheathed his wand and began walking forward, keeping an eye on the trail that was set before them. He remembered using the spell during his time as a Death Eater-in-training in his previous lifetime. Anything or anyone with a magical signature could be tracked with it. His father made sure Draco didn’t get a wink of shut-eye until he was able to do it right. It was certainly a lot less inhumane than what Aunt Bellatrix would have done if he wasn’t able to do it right. 

He shuddered even at the thought of it. At the thought of  _ her. _

For a while, Potter didn’t talk to him. He only followed beside him while using a Lumos spell to help light their way through the dark forest. But he had to ruin the moment of peace by opening his big mouth. 

“So,” Potter started. “I saw you and Remus slip away earlier on during the party last night. What was that about?”

“Why is that any of your business?” Draco answered with a question of his own. Potter always did love to stick his nose where it didn’t belong when it came to Draco. It started in sixth year but it seemed that he was starting his little habit a lot earlier than he was supposed to. “If we went off by ourselves to talk, that usually means what we talked about is private.” 

“No need to get so snappy,” mumbled Potter. “I was just trying to make conversation.”

“Come up with better topics then.” 

“Fine. Here’s one. How do you feel about your team losing Quidditch this year?”

Draco was ready to argue but paused when he suddenly remembered that, oh yeah, it was second year. It was originally the year that he first joined the Slytherin team after his father bought everyone new brooms. But since he was already on the team, that meant that Potter didn’t get his chance to impress the brainless hoard that made up the Gryffindors. But with Potter possibly joining the Gryffindors now, that meant winning wouldn’t be a breeze anymore. 

As much as he loathed to admit it, the Snitch tended to favor Potter more times than not. If he was lucky, it was some kind of Boy Who Lived thing. If memory served him correctly, the Greengrasses were one of the few that were devout believers in Hecate. Maybe he could convince her to say a prayer or two so the universe would favor him for once. At least on this. 

“Don’t get your hopes up, Potter,” Draco answered. “You have to get on the team first.”

“And if I get on the team?”

“Then we’ll cross that bridge when we get there. If the bridge ever exists.” 

They continued to walk along the path that was revealed for them, the silence now filled with quick quips and insults directed towards each other about their Seeker’s Game. As they talked, Draco couldn’t help but notice that this was the most he’s ever talked to Potter. They still may be at each other’s throats but they were exchanging words a whole lot more than they ever did in his previous timeline. 

His thoughts went back to when they were on the train, Potter being the one to offer his friendship instead of Draco. He was still upset at the time but, now that he could think clearly and remembered everything from his past, he wondered if he was too hasty. Did he make some kind of mistake in denying him his friendship? Potter could be some kind of valuable asset in the upcoming war.

Then again, he and Weasley were still idiots who believed that everyone could simply be separated into the category of Light and Dark. And he never did get a proper apology from him despite the fact that he didn’t know it was Draco that he was insulting the entire time. 

The loud snapping of a tree branch snapped him out of his thoughts. 

“What was that?” Potter whispered. 

“A cue to run for our lives, perhaps?” 

Potter brushed his comment off, stepping between Draco and the direction the sound came from instead. He kept his wand pointed, using the light that shined at the tip to illuminate the dark. Just like a typical idiot Gryffindor. Draco scoffed. 

“Boys? Is that you?” A familiar voice called out from the darkness. Potter lowered his wand. 

“Remus?” 

Sure enough, Remus Lupin stepped through the bushes with his wand raised. He looked at them and let out a relieved sigh. “Oh, thank goodness,” He walked towards them and, without warning, pulled the two of them into a hug. His suit smelled like pine and chocolate frogs. Draco didn’t dare return the hug and instead just let it happen. It’s not like he even agreed to it in the first place. “You’ve had the entirety of Hogwarts worried sick about you!”

“How long were we gone?” Potter asked.

“Hours!” Lupin finally released them from his clutches. “And I hope you boys know McGonagall is not very pleased with all of this. Especially since you were sighted flying a car in a muggle area.” 

How did they find out so quickly?

“The Obliviators probably handled the situation. It’s fine.” Draco said nonchalantly. 

“That may be the case but the Ministry is  _ not  _ happy about using their Obliviators for things that could have easily been avoided,” Lupin explained. Draco knew he was right about that. Since his father was involved in the Ministry, Draco made sure to do research into all sorts of jobs that had connections to the Ministry. Being an Obliviator was immediately marked off. They were almost as secretive as Unspeakables and Draco Malfoy certainly loved to blab about his successes. 

“Now stay close. The walk to McGonagall’s Office should be long enough for you two to make up a story to explain yourselves without getting her too upset.” 

For the rest of the walk, Potter and Lupin chatted amongst themselves while Draco was left alone with his own thoughts. He reached into the waistline of his pants and pulled out the journal that he stuck there since it wouldn’t fit in any of his pockets. He opened it and flipped through the pages as they walked. Every page was blank with not a single thing written on it. It was certainly odd. Maybe he could leave it with Theo to investigate it for a while. 

“Does that sound good, Malfoy?” Potter asked, suddenly including him in the conversation he was not paying attention to. 

“Yeah,” Draco replied, attempting to play it off. “Just make sure you do all the talking, Potter. It’s the least you could do for crashing the car and nearly killing me.” 

Before he knows it, they end up in McGonagall’s Office. The two of them sit in front of her desk with Lupin standing nearby the door, shifting from side to side in what Draco would assume was nervousness. He isn’t sure what he would be nervous about though. They were the ones who had to face McGonagall, not him. Maybe Potty’s uncle dearest used to be a troublemaker back during his time at Hogwarts and has ended up in this position more than once. 

He seemed to be close to Sirius Black. Maybe he isn’t too far off on this theory. 

“You both missed dinner so I imagine you both are hungry,” McGonagall said calmly, waving her wand. A plate of sandwiches, two teacups, and a teapot appeared along with a copy of the Daily Prophet. That is what immediately caught Draco’s eye. Draco immediately picked it up and stared at the cover, his knuckles going white as he gripped The Daily Prophet. On the front cover was that familiar blue car flying through the air with himself and Potter clearly pictured in the front seat. 

**_THE BOY WHO LIVED IS THE BOY WHO BREAKS THE LAW_ **

**_Written by Rita Skeeter_ **

“I  _ hate  _ Rita bloody Skeeter,” Draco grumbled darkly, crumbling the drivel that the Wizarding World called news into the tightest paper ball that he could make. He didn’t even need to read the actual contents of the article to know it was filled with nothing but garbage regurgitated onto a page. 

“I understand your sentiments, Mr. Malfoy,” McGonagall said. “But perhaps you would not have to deal with her if you gave her nothing to report about, hm?”

“We didn’t mean to cause any trouble, Headmistress McGonagall.” Potter jumped in. “Draco was still exhausted after his run-in with a Death Eater in Diagon Alley. He was worried sick when he found out we missed the train which is why I suggested we take the car. I thought I could handle it and I apologize for any trouble we may have caused you or the Ministry.” 

Draco scoffed under his breath.  _ Kiss arse. _

“I believe I did hear about a scuffle that happened in Knockturn Alley. Your apology is appreciated, Mr. Potter. I suppose I cannot be upset at you boys for doing whatever you can to  _ go  _ to school instead of getting away from it.” McGonagall chuckled lightly, a twinkle in her eye. “But please do not do that again. The school is already on high alert. You both could have been seriously hurt.” 

That certainly got Draco’s attention. “Why is the school on high alert?”

“Well,” The older woman sighed, placing her teacup down in front of her. “A student has gone missing recently. He’s a fifth year Ravenclaw boy named Jonah McKinley.” 

_ McKinley. Most likely a half-blood or Muggle-born considering I never heard that name spoken in the inner circle before, _ Draco thought to himself. But a student had managed to go missing this early on in the school year? “Are you sure he didn’t just miss the train?” Draco questioned. 

“I’m afraid that isn’t the case. He was seen at the Sorting Ceremony but was reported missing by Prefects after that.”

That was definitely worrying. There was always the possibility that he could have ran off to snog someone like most fifth years did. Draco remembered having to bust plenty of them during his time as a Prefect. It certainly gave him a headache or two, especially since he wanted to sneak away and snog someone too. Pansy used to be his girl of choice but he doubted that would ever happen now in this timeline. 

McGonagall must have seen that he was trying to work out the mysterious disappearance in her head because she suddenly cleared her throat, Draco quickly storing his thoughts away as he waited for her to speak. She peered at him from over her glasses. 

“Don’t worry. We will find him soon enough. Now, you boys have managed to miss lunch and dinner. You’re probably hungry so feel free to eat up.” McGonagall got up from her chair. “I expect that you boys are mature enough to walk back to your respective Houses by yourselves. If I don’t see you at breakfast, I may start to worry.” 

Potter picked up a sandwich that was immediately replaced with another. Endless sandwiches. Of course. “Before you go, could you tell me what House Ginerva Weasley ended up in?” Potter asked. 

McGonagall shot him a knowing smile. “Gryffindor.” 

Potter returned her smile brightly, showing off the jam from the sandwich that stuck to his teeth. As vulgar as always. 

“Anything else?” Draco chimed in. 

“Slytherin’s password is Toujours Pur and Gryffindor’s is Braveheart. Ah, and Mr. Remus Lupin will be serving as our new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor.” 

That would explain why he was wandering through the Forbidden Forest for them. Being on the Hogwarts grounds was odd enough as is. Potter leaned backward in his seat in excitement, almost falling over in the process but he was saved by a quick Wingardium Leviosa by their new Professor. “Remus, that’s great! Though, I suppose I should be calling you Professor now.” 

“Thank you, Harry. But don’t expect any favoritism. You’ll have to pass just like everybody else.” Lupin said with a wink. Potter not getting any sort of favoritism whatsoever? Draco almost laughed. Likely story. At least McGonagall seemed amused, the headmistress chuckling under his breath a bit.

“Come now, Mr. Lupin. I need to tell you where you’re staying. But I have no doubt that you already know where the room is considering your history here.” 

Lupin rubbed his neck sheepishly before he followed McGonagall out of the office, their conversation fading as they left. All that was left in the office was just himself, Potter, and the multitude of portraits who looked down at them with interest as they chatted amongst themselves. Draco got up from his chair, Potter grabbing him by the arm to stop him. 

“Aren’t you going to eat?” Potter questioned. 

Draco looked down at the sandwiches before picking up two of them. One for him and one for Greg because he still did owe him something. He’s sure he would appreciate the late night snack. “Try not to die in your sleep, Potter.” Draco waved goodbye with the sandwich before he left the office leaving Potter on his own. When he arrived in the dungeons, he said the password which revealed the stairs to him. The walk down was long and oddly lonely despite the fact that he’s walked up and down these stairs for two lifetimes now. 

Did he somehow manage to miss Potter’s annoying presence? Just the thought had him walking down the stairs just a bit faster. He eventually arrived at his room, holding both sandwiches in one hand while he opened the door. The dorm was illuminated by candles, his friends stopping mid-conversation to see who was at the door. Crabbe continued to ignore their existence as always. 

“Hope you didn’t miss me too much,” Draco said with a smile. 

“Draco!” Greg was the first one to react, immediately scrambling out of his bed and running towards him. Draco quickly braced himself but one could never truly prepare themselves for Greg’s strength. Draco could have sworn he felt his spine crack when the other practically lifted him off the ground for his larger-than-life hug. 

“Greg,” Draco rasped breathlessly. “You’re crushing me. And the sandwiches.”

Greg put him down after that, mumbling apologies as he set him down again. Draco held out the sandwich for his large best friend, smiling at the appreciation that filled his eyes. He took it and sat down on his bed, eating it happily. As Draco walked over to his own bed, he tossed the journal to Theo as he passed by. Theo caught it easily. “Inspect this for me,” Draco ordered. “See that it’s done by morning, please?”

“When did I start taking orders from you?” Theo asked with a bit of amusement in his voice. 

“Are you saying that you don’t want to look it over?” 

“I never said that,” replied Theo, reaching for his wand as he began muttering spells towards the journal. Draco collapsed onto his bed, followed by Blaise who sat on the edge excitedly. 

“So? Are you going to tell us what happened?” He asked. 

All eyes went to him, curious to hear about his absence. Even Crabbe seemed a bit interested, the boy looking over at them from over his shoulder. 

Draco smirked at the attention. “It’s a long story…”

* * *

“So. Let me get this straight,” Daphne began, closing the edition of last night’s Daily Prophet article. It was breakfast at Hogwarts and Draco was relieved he was finally able to wear something that wasn’t that god-awful jumper. Blaise had teased him about it during the night after he told them his story of what happened. “You and Harry Potter caused a huge conundrum with the Ministry by flying through the Muggle world with a car. All because you were late for the train.” 

“That’s the basics of it.” 

Daphne sighed before she leaned up and placed a quick peck on his cheek, able to do so after finally sitting beside him for a change instead of across from him. “I was so worried. I thought you were kidnapped or something…” 

A warm feeling sprouted in Draco’s chest at Daphne’s worry for him. His expression turned soft as he gave her a comforting smile. “I’m sorry for worrying you, Daphne.” 

It’s because of this softness that he wasn’t prepared for the hard slap that Daphne would deliver across his face afterward. 

“And don’t you ever do it again, you idiot! Honestly, what were you thinking? Has Harry Potter officially rotted your brain?” 

Draco rubbed the stinging red mark that was left in place after Daphne’s slap. 

“Good right hand, Daphne.” Greg complimented her. Daphne brought her hand closer to her chest, her cheeks turning as red as the mark she left on him. 

“O-Oh. Well, It was just a simple slap…” 

“I’m the one in pain here and you two are going to do  _ this  _ right now?” Draco complained. That got Daphne’s attention. She pulled out her wand and placed the tip of it on the place where she hit him, whispering a cooling charm that could help alleviate the pain. 

“Sorry. I didn’t think I hit you that hard, honestly.” Daphne sighed. “You’ll be okay. Just suck it up a bit.” 

Draco waved away her wand from his cheek. Daphne gave him a sheepish smile before she tucked her wand away back into the pocket of her school robes. With that settled, he turned his attention to Theo who was currently hunched over the journal that he gave him to look over last night. “Any progress on the journal I gave you?” Draco asked.

Theo glanced up at him and nodded, flipping through the pages. “It’s a completely normal journal but I thought the owner of it would be of some interest to you,” Once Theo found the page he was looking for, he pushed the journal across the table to him and pointed at the faded name on the very first page that Draco somehow managed to miss.

Reading the name made his heart stop and his blood run cold. 

_ Madam Bellatrix Irma Black.  _

He hadn’t thought about his aunt since his first year back when he found out that she was the cause of him ending up in this world in the first place. Thinking about his father falling to the floor, his mother’s last words to him, and Bellatrix’s smirk as she sent a spell his way. He felt sick. He pushed the journal back towards Theo. He got an odd look from him but the other boy didn’t comment on it. 

“You said it was completely normal?” Draco forced out. “Nothing strange at all?” 

“No. I’ve even written in it a couple of times.” 

“Probably because it’s missing that strange gem on the front.” Greg pointed at the front of the journal. “See?”

Draco watched as Theo closed the journal completely to get a good look at it. Greg was right. The gem was missing from the front cover. Now that he thought about it, he thought something was odd about the journal when he picked it up yesterday morning. What was odd was the missing gemstone. 

Did the gem and the journal have some kind of relationship with each other? Or was it a perfectly fine journal? Draco groaned, scraping his fork across his plate much to the chagrin of Daphne’s poor ears. “Well, if the gemstone is missing then it must have fallen off in the shop. The upside is that it can’t cause any trouble here at Hogwarts.” 

The group nodded but Draco had that familiar feeling settle in his chest. The one that usually told him that something was wrong but he didn’t want to think about that now. Thoughts about his murderous aunt had not only plummeted his mood but also his appetite. He lifted his plate up and pushed the scraps onto Greg’s plate instead. He gave Draco a small smile before combining the food that was already on his plate with Draco’s, eating them without a care in the world. 

Sometimes Draco wished he could be like Greg. All he had to do was worry about protecting the Boy Who Lived, eat happily, and just have to get a passing grade in school. Nevermind that his last exam grades were filled with As and Ps. Meanwhile, Draco was fighting with his cousin, had a mystery at Hogwarts to solve, and had to deal with most of society hating him either due to who he is or who his parents were. 

Would things get easier for him as the years went on? Considering Hogwarts’s history of being on the brink of collapsing every year, he had a feeling this answer was a solid no. 

Timetables were passed out for every House by the different professors. Lupin was the one who handed him his with a kind smile and a friendly wink. Blaise looked over his which was essentially the same as all of theirs. They were still second years, after all. Class schedules usually didn’t start differentiating until third year. 

“This is the year we’ll have to choose what we want our electives to be for next year,” Blaise said. “What are you guys planning on choosing?” 

“Whatever is the most important class that can help me become our future Minister of Magic,” Daphne said excitedly. 

“I was thinking the same exact thing. Though, I was thinking about becoming an Unspeakable instead.” Theo responded. 

Draco silently wondered what he wanted to be when he grew up himself. He had a whole lot more career opportunities than he did back during the war. He hopped from a job at the Ministry, Potions Master, to just living off of the Malfoy fortune in the span of only a few years thanks to the changing tides of the war. Now he was in a position where he could get any job that he wanted if he wished it. He was the bloody Boy Who Lived, after all. 

That fact still surprised him somehow even now no matter how often he said it.

“I know that I’ll just choose whatever Draco chooses.” Greg beamed. 

Draco smirked a bit and chuckled, “And I’m just choosing whatever is the easiest to get an O in.”

Blaise nodded, satisfied with Draco’s answer the most. “I like how you think, Draco Malfoy. I’m doing the same.”

Daphne seemed the most dissatisfied with Draco’s answer. “You know, you three should already have your career planned out. I heard that each Head of House must sit down with their students for hours if need be to find out what they want to do with their lives. And our Head of House is…” 

All of their heads turned to Lockhart, who seemed to be doing his best to sprinkle some of his charms on McGonagall of all people. Suddenly career hunting didn’t seem so bad anymore. 

“No thanks. I think I’ll just marry myself off to a rich family instead. No unnecessary classes needed after all.” Blaise corrected. 

“Same here.” Draco agreed. But what pureblood family would want him is the real question. He could marry into one of the lesser known families but nothing could be as secure as the Sacred Twenty-Eight. 

Daphne scoffed but Greg was the one who brought up a good point. 

“I wonder when your slight hero worship over Lockhart stopped.” 

The light-haired witch awkwardly scratched her cheek. “Well. I just got older. That’s all. He’s a bit of a hack, isn’t he?” 

Draco chuckled a bit, remembering Daphne’s comment about the taste of his Polyjuice Potion. Cheap cologne was what she called it. Maybe the taste of it knocked the Lockhart Obsession right out of her. Or maybe Greg had something to do with it. Girls usually did love guys who were tall and protective. Greg checked both of those boxes easily. 

As his friends continued their conversations with each other, Draco’s gaze fell to the journal in Theo’s possession once again. A feeling of discomfort washed over him. 

Just where  _ was  _ the gem that used to be on the front of it? 

He had a feeling that he had to find it. And fast.

* * *

For the rest of the day, that familiar odd feeling had settled over Draco and refused to let up. It’s almost like it managed to get worse. He felt like there was something squirming around in the pit of his gut. He felt a lot jumpier, constantly looking over his shoulder. During their first lesson in Herbology, Draco managed to get his finger bitten by a mandrake because he wasn’t paying attention which earned him concerned stares from his friends. 

Being in Defense Against the Dark Arts wasn’t any better. Lupin ― Professor Lupin now ― was teaching his heart out despite it being his first lesson as a Hogwarts professor. Everyone else seemed to be completely enamored with the man as he talked about Cornish Pixies and their behaviors. Despite the fact that he should have been paying attention, he found himself just tapping his parchment with the tip of his quill. 

It helped his anxiousness just a bit. 

He wished he knew what the problem was but he couldn’t exactly pinpoint the issue. Was he supposed to be doing something else at the moment? Tracking down McKinley, perhaps? He couldn’t exactly do that without any proper information. He wasn’t some trained Auror. Finding lost Ravenclaws was not something he specialized in. He wouldn’t even know where to start with his investigation. While he could try to ask Ravenclaws for some information, they traveled in packs and loved to shun others. He did not feel like dealing with their judgemental stares in his current state. 

A flash caught Draco’s attention, causing him to look up once more. People were already filing out of the classroom and a young, excitable Gryffindor was smiling at him while holding a camera.

“Can I help you?” Draco said through gritted teeth, rubbing the side of his head to get rid of the oncoming migraine. The young Gryffindor student lowered his camera. 

“Oh, I hope you don’t mind me taking a picture. I-I’ve heard so much about you. Everyone’s talked about how you defeated You-Know-Who and that you saved Hogwarts last year. They say you’re a dark wizard but I don’t believe that for a second.” The kid said quickly. “I’m Colin. Colin Creevey. I’m a first year Gryffindor. It’s a pretty nice school. I thought that this was all some elaborate hoax until I actually got here. Magic, wizards, dragons. All real! Can you believe it?” 

“Well, yeah,” Greg said from beside him as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. The poor sod was probably excited to show off what little smarts he actually had. Draco looked around, noticing the absence of his other friends. Greg must have let them go on ahead while he stayed behind. “We were born here.”

“Oh. I suppose that makes sense.” Creevey said sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck nervously. “I-I’ll leave you to it then. I’ll see you around, Draco!” 

And just like that, the small boy was running out of the classroom. Greg gave him a quick pat on the shoulder with a mutter of, “Are you good, mate?” 

Draco shrugged before balling up the parchment and sticking it into his bag. “I’ll be fine. Let’s catch up with the others before Daphne accuses us of skipping.” 

The rest of the week was filled with Colin Creevey hanging around every corner, sticking his stupid camera in his face and ranting on and on to him as if they were friends their entire lives. Honestly, who even gave him permission to refer to him by his first name? Draco sure didn’t give him permission to do so. It was enough already that he was dealing with the odd feeling that continued to make him feel awful but he also had to deal with a super fan. 

Things came to a head on Saturday morning during practice. 

Draco forced himself to listen to Marcus go on and on about the new training program he spent all summer working on. It involved a whole lot of misdirection and taking advantage of the weaknesses he’d noticed in each team. Marcus had a real future in Quidditch and it was obvious that he was passionate about it. He could easily lead other teams to victory if he wanted. After his hour long introduction, they were finally permitted to actually physically practice. Greg, who tagged along with Draco while Daphne and the others stayed inside of the day, gave Draco an excited smile. Colin, who followed Draco everywhere nonetheless, took yet another photo of Draco. 

They were about to go their separate ways, Greg in the stands while Draco stayed on the field, but stopped when the garish red and gold colors of the Gryffindor team came walking onto the field like they owned the world. Potter was amongst their ranks, proudly holding a Nimbus 2001 broom in his grasp. Of course, Potter ended up on the team. As if his life couldn’t possibly get any worse. Potter noticed him glaring daggers in his direction and gave him a smug smile, proudly flaunting his new broom as well to show that he really made it after all. 

“It’s our turn on the pitch today,” Wood said to Marcus. “It can’t be both of us out here.” 

“What are you talking about, Wood?” Marcus crossed his arms. “It’s our turn. You and your little pack should move along already.” 

And that’s how the argument started. Every member was speaking at once, talking about their own points and how they deserved to be out here over the other team. Even Greg joined in on the arguing despite not being a part of the team. Things quickly went downhill when one of the members of the team, Henry Shields, opened his stupid muggle-born mouth. 

“Who are you to insult us, Goyle?” Shields seethed. “Honestly, why are you even here? Shouldn’t you be off searching for your mummy or something? Or is it really true that she’s already thrown herself at You-Know-Who’s feet?” 

“And a serious accusation fired from Shields!” Creevey narrated. “What will happen next?” 

Draco’s eye twitched involuntarily. “Maybe you should keep our parents out of this argument, Shields. It isn’t a good look for you.” 

“Why? Scared I’ll bring up your parents too, Malfoy?” Shields said with a smirk before faking innocence as he covered his mouth. “Oh, that’s right. You don’t have parents that I can bring up, do you?” 

"Ouch. A hard barb from Shields," Creevey narrated once more, shoving his camera near Draco's face to take a picture. "Just who will our savior respond?"

The mumbles from his fellow Slytherins, Creevey’s narration, that odd feeling that’s been following him all week, and Shields’s stupid smirk on his face. It was just too much for him. He couldn’t take all of this anymore. Like a frayed string finally giving up, Draco snapped and released all of the tension in his body towards Shields.

“Shut your filthy fucking mouth, you dirty little Mudblood! You and your entire bloodline are a scourge on wizardkind!” Draco yelled. The entire field went so quiet that you could probably hear a pin drop. Then, in a single second, there was chaos from the Gryffindor side as everyone quickly became upset.

“How dare you!” Potter shouted. 

“You take that back, Malfoy!” Shields screeched, quickly advancing on Draco. Greg stepped in front of Draco and hit Shields square in the jaw, the boy falling down to the ground in pain. As if following some kind of primal urge, Greg sat himself down on top of him and began beating his face in. The Slytherin team and most of the Gryffindor team gathered around them, chanting the word  _ fight  _ like some sort of mantra. 

Draco could only watch as Greg’s fists met Shields's face at the rhythm in which they shouted. 

The fight, if you could even call it that since Shields didn’t get a singular hit in, couldn’t have lasted for more than a minute. Madam Hooch came onto the field, most likely fetched by the Gryffindor team members who didn’t join in to watch the fight. She blew her whistle, quickly breaking things up. 

“Are you all out of your mind?! I have half the mind to suspend you from your games!” Hooch shrieked. “Who started this mess?!” 

All of Gryffindor pointed their fingers pointed at Draco and Greg. The Slytherins kept their heads down so they weren’t implicating Draco but also weren’t jumping to his defense either. Even Creevey didn’t bother coming to defend him but it was most likely from confusion. He hadn’t been in their world long enough to understand what the word Mudblood meant. He’d probably be told later on by one of his fellow Gryffindors. 

Madam Hooch’s eyes narrowed on the two of them. 

“Detention.  _ Now. _ ”

Later on in the day, Draco got a very long lecture from both McGonagall and Professor Lupin on his use of the word ‘Mudblood’. It was the stuff that he expected to hear. He was the Chosen One, the hero who would save everyone! He had no business using such an awful word. Blah, blah, blah. Draco didn’t particularly care. Mostly because yelling at Shields and watching him get beat up seemed to help him forget all about that feeling that’s been following him around all week like a black cloud. 

While McGonagall stepped out of her office to think of proper punishment and Professor Lupin left to go teach his class for the rest of the day, Draco looked at his friend Greg with a bit of a smile. 

“You didn’t have to defend me like that. You could have gotten suspended for kicking that idiot’s arse so hard,” Draco said. 

Greg shook his head, “It’s no problem. People can talk about my mother all they want. But me,” He then held up one of his fists, “Angus,” and then he held up the other, “And Tad won’t allow anyone to disrespect the Malfoys like that. You’re one of my best mates, after all.” 

Draco truly did appreciate Gregory Goyle. He and Vincent were loyal before but Draco never appreciated that loyalty back in the other timeline. But now? He almost wanted to visit his other self and shake him for not seeing how amazing of a friend and ally Greg really was and most likely always had been. 

The two of them shared an understanding smile before McGonagall came back into the room, her arms crossed and watching their friendly display critically. It would be a bit odd for the two of them to be smiling right about now after what Draco had said to Shields. She probably thought they were slowly giving in to their evil Slytherin roots which is probably why she gave out their punishments as she did. 

“Mr. Goyle, you will help Mr. Lockhart sort through his mail. Draco, you will polish every Hogwarts trophy until they are spick and span. I do not want to see the two of you interacting until both of you are finished with your jobs. Have I made myself clear?” She said sternly, peering down at them from behind her glasses. 

“Yes ma’am.” Greg gulped. Draco nodded in agreement. 

“Good. Now go on. Mr. Lockhart is waiting for you, Mr. Goyle. And, Draco, you will find your needed cleaning supplies in front of the trophy displays near my office. Chop chop. I don't want to ever hear about fights and unwelcome terms coming from you two ever again.” 

McGonagall made her way over to her desk as the two boys left. Once they were free, they shared a look with each other.

“Draco?” Greg asked. "Did you really mean what you said to him back there?"

Draco paused, running a hand through his smooth hair. Truthfully, he didn't know why he said that. He already knew the rules that came with being the Boy Who Lived so saying things like that was off-limits. A part of him didn't even want to say it either. So, Draco just looked at Greg and shook his head. 

"Shields is a bloody idiot but I didn't need to stoop to his level and say something like that," Draco replied. That's probably something Daphne would say. Merlin, she was probably going to tear into him once word got out that he said that. Nonetheless, Draco's response seemed to please Greg because he gave him a nod and one of his signature smiles.

Once their brief exchange was over, they went their separate ways. After walking a good distance away from McGonagall’s Office, Draco finally found the first trophy displays with a bucket and rag waiting for him. It’s humiliating to think about the fact that he had to wash things with his bare hands like a Weasley. Hell, even the Weasleys used actual magic to clean. It wasn’t fair. 

As Draco grumbled under his breath about the unfairness of the situation, he felt a freezing cold chill brush the back of his neck. He quickly whipped his head around, looking at the empty hallway that he resided in. There was not a single student around and the feeling that Draco felt worsened for just a single second. His heart began beating a bit faster, the hairs on his arm stood up, and his hands shook ever so slightly.

Something sinister was brewing inside Hogwarts. 

And it was getting restless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I recommend following my tumblr hoorenglish.tumblr.com where I show when updates come. Sometimes Ao3 doesn't show that my fic has updated so it's nice to do just in case you don't want to miss when the chapters first drop.
> 
> Besides that, the chapter is finally here! Things should be getting serious next chapter.


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